


Home

by Lerena



Series: Listen to me [2]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Ableism, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Autism, Eddie Kaspbrak is autistic, F/M, Gen, Good Parents Maggie & Wentworth Tozier, M/M, Recovery, Richie Tozier Has ADHD, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:27:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 152,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23647717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lerena/pseuds/Lerena
Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak is finally freed from Sonia's grasp.Living with the Toziers, he's on a slow path to recovery, confronting his traumatic past and accepting progressively the person that he is. With this acceptance comes a myriad of feelings, that Eddie has to learn to understand and allow himself to feel...Written by an autistic author
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Mike Hanlon & Eddie Kaspbrak, Mike Hanlon & Richie Tozier
Series: Listen to me [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1701829
Comments: 741
Kudos: 336





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the first chapter of this new volume! Thank you so much for your support on my first project, I can't believe we're already at the second volume! I hope you'll like this one as much as you liked the first.
> 
> Here are the Trigger Warnings for this chapter:
> 
> TW for self-harm  
> TW for internalized ableism  
> TW for infantilization (self-inflicted)
> 
> Thank you and good reading!

Everything was a blur. Eddie kept drifting off, waking up only to be forced to a slumber that wasn't allowing him to feel rested. He had trouble remembering what happened every time he woke up, trying to ask for his mother, unable to vocalize his confused thoughts, getting so agitated that the medical staff just chose the easiest solution, which was to drug him into compliance.  
  
Eddie was dazed, exhausted, lost. Every time he woke up, he expected to be in his room, to have to follow his usual schedule, to see his mother, and hear her voice. But he only saw the white walls and the medical staff, he could only smell the distinct odor of a hospital room, and it made him panic. Every single time.  
  
He didn't even have time to start panicking when they drugged him this day. Eddie barely woke up, and he was already drifting off, drooling all over himself, his arms unable to hug his plush as he usually did. When he opened his eyes, Eddie wasn't in a hospital room. But he wasn't home either. He didn't recognize where he was. But there was no mistake that he knew the person sitting next to him, offering him a smile.  
  
He needed a few seconds so that his thoughts started to make sense, blinking slowly, letting out a few sighs. Richie. It was Richie in front of him. Richie Tozier. It was probably a dream. It wasn't the first time he dreamed about his friend, after all. Even though he seemed older than what he remembered. And… And Eddie couldn't talk to him, which he was usually able to do when he was dreaming.  
  
He tried to straighten up on his bed, a big and comfortable double bed, but found himself feeling dizzy and could only go back to his initial position, whining weakly. Richie's hand caressed his hair cautiously, as if he was ready to take it away immediately if Eddie didn't want to feel his touch. But he did. It was all a dream, and Eddie wanted to enjoy it as much as he could. Until he had to go back to his usual life. Until he had to take part in his therapy sessions. Until he had to go back on TV and…  
  
Eddie winced, feeling a throb of pain in his head. Richie took off his hand, apologizing to him. Eddie tried to tell him that it wasn't his fault, that his head hurt, but he still couldn't, only managing to let out a weird sound from his throat.  
  
"Don't push yourself too hard, Eds. You must be exhausted."  
  
And he was. Eddie was so tired. But he didn't want to go back to sleep. Because he would probably be woken up, and he would have to go back to his reality, and he didn't want to, right now. He wanted to stay with Richie. To feel his hand brushing his hair. To hear his voice.  
  
Richie gave him something that Eddie identified immediately as his father's plush. He took it quickly, almost dropping it due to his clumsy movements, hugging it against him as tightly as possible.  
  
"We got it cleaned. Mom told me that she'll try to fix its ear, but she's pretty bad at sewing, so we should probably wait for Bev to visit and give it a try. She can't wait to see you, you know?"  
  
A dream with Richie and Beverly… Eddie was being spoiled. He hugged his plush, humming happily, curling up on himself to rub his head against his teddy bear's fur. He hoped the dream would last as long as possible. He wanted to see Beverly too. He wanted to see every single one of his friends.  
  
Eddie yawned, blinking furiously to chase away the exhaustion that clouded his mind and made his body feel clumsy and weird. He tried to put one of his hands on Richie's leg and, while doing so, his eyes caught the sight of an alarm clock. It was nine… Too late, it was too late! Eddie was supposed to leave his bed at seven, eat his breakfast, and then take part in his therapy! Once again, he tried to straighten up, knocking his head against the bedhead in the process. It hurt… Was he supposed to feel pain in his dreams? He wasn't so sure…  
  
"Easy, tiger! They really did a number on you… We didn't want them to drug you, but they didn't give us a choice in the matter. But you're home, so that's what's important."  
  
Home? He was… home? And what was that about drugging him? Eddie couldn't understand a single thing of what Richie was saying. Why couldn't he have a nice dream where they would all be swimming at the quarry or something like that? He wasn't sure he liked this particular dream anymore…  
  
Eddie had so much to ask, so much to say, but he still couldn't speak, and that wasn't normal! That wasn't normal, because he was always able to talk in his dreams and to do things that he couldn't do anymore and now… now… now… Eddie moaned, trying so hard to get a single coherent word out of his mouth, unable to do so. He was about to hit himself when Richie gave him a white slate and a big pen.  
  
"Here. Do you think you can write what you want to say on this? If you can't, it's okay. Take your time. Take all the time you need."  
  
Richie was so nice. So sweet. Maybe this dream wasn't so bad, after all. But if it was really nine in the morning, Eddie shouldn't be allowed to sleep more. He had to wake up. Why wasn't he woken up by his mom? Why…?  
  
He had trouble closing his fingers around the pen, but he finally managed to do so and wrote the only thing he could think of, the one word that summed up all of his thoughts, all of his questions, everything.  
  
 _Mom?_  
  
Where was she? Why was he still dreaming? Why did it hurt when it was all in his head? Why? Why?  
  
Richie's face got pale. He looked at Eddie, then at the white slate, then at Eddie, before whispering softly:  
  
“You… You don’t remember?”  
  
Remember? Remember what? Eddie shook his head angrily, letting out an upset noise. He didn't know why he was suddenly so furious, but he was! He was so fucking angry, he wanted to wake up! Why wasn't he waking up? He threw his white slate at Richie's face, who didn't even try to avoid it. Eddie didn't remember. He didn't want to remember… Remember what?  
  
“Your mom, Eddie… she’s...”  
  
Richie didn't have to complete his sentence. Suddenly, everything came back to Eddie, a big flow of memories that made him wince and whine. The talk show… Richie… His mom… He had pushed her and she… she… she…  
  
“MOM! DAD!”  
  
Eddie's throat was painful and he didn't realize immediately that he was screaming his lungs out, eyes closed, his fists hitting his head as hard as he could. Hands grabbed his wrists, and he screamed even louder, fighting as much as he could what was preventing him from hurting himself. His mom… His mom… She… He… It was… Because of him… He… He… He…  
  
Eddie was shaking with spasms, kicking the air, screaming, fighting Richie's grip on his wrists. Soon enough, he couldn't move his legs either, and he felt trapped. It wasn't a dream anymore. It was a nightmare, and he needed to wake up. Wake up! Wake up!  
  
“Eddie, Eddie, I’m here. It’s Richie, I’m here. I’m not leaving you alone. I’m here. I’m here.”  
  
Richie repeated those words in Eddie's ear, rocking him slightly, before humming a soft tune that Eddie found himself focusing on. He kept fighting and whining until he didn't have any strength to spare anymore. He went limp against Richie's body, who had shifted his position to hug him tightly. As Eddie liked it… His eyelids were fluttering, and he was unable to escape the darkness that was taking over him. The hands stopped gripping him, and Eddie curled up against Richie, letting out a soft noise. He was so tired…  
  
When he woke up, Eddie had no idea how long he had been out cold. But he was still against Richie, who was whispering sweet nothings to his ear, hugging him with one arm, using his other hand to caress his hair. Eddie yawned audibly, catching Richie's attention:  
  
"Hey, Eds. You're feeling better?"  
  
Eddie wasn't sure of that. He still had trouble understanding what he was doing here. No one explained to him anything. Not that they really took the time to do so during these last five years. No, they just gave him orders, and Eddie complied. Because that’s how it was. Because his mom was telling him to be nice and he knew he had to be. His mom… His mom…  
  
Eddie started to cry. He didn't have enough strength to go through another meltdown, but he had to process what he was feeling in one way or another. Richie let him cry as long as he wanted, caressing his hair gently. But Eddie remembered that he wasn't supposed to bother other people too much, that they could take his plush from him if he was too much of a nuisance, so he forced himself to calm down, sniffling and hiccuping.  
  
"That's it, let it out. Don't worry. We can stay here if you want. It's your room too, now."  
  
His room? Eddie didn't understand. It was Richie's room. Not his. His room was in his mom's apartment, far, far away from here. But he started to see some of his stuff, even a few of his comics here and there. Eddie let out an interrogative noise. He didn't understand. He didn't understand a single thing.  
  
"You're staying with us, Eddie. That's official. We have the papers and all. You're home, Eds. You're staying here. If you want to, of course."  
  
It was a weird dream… It must be, right? There was no way he was back with Richie. Maybe… Maybe it was some kind of weird test. Something that his therapist organized, to make sure that he would still be nice and obedient even if his mom wasn't there to watch over him. It must be something like that, right? Because… Because it was just impossible that he was back with Richie just to be with him. He shouldn't be rewarded when the worst happened because of him. He… He should be in jail or something. He… He… He killed… his mom…  
  
"Easy, Eddie. Take your time. The slate is right here if you need to talk. But you don't have to. We can just… stay like that. If you want to."  
  
If you want to… Richie kept saying that as if it was obvious, but Eddie didn't know how to react. Nobody asked him what he wanted to do. It didn't matter in the slightest. Every day was the same. He was supposed to eat his breakfast, take part in his therapy session, eat his meal, go back to therapy, have a bit of time to write a letter to Richie, and so on. Unless he had to go on TV with his mom or what, it was always the same.  
  
But he didn't have to write a letter to Richie anymore, right? Because Richie was here. And… And Eddie needed to show him that he was still a "good boy". That he was following his mom's instructions even if she wasn't there to guide him. The alarm clock let him know that it was too late for breakfast and that he missed his morning session, but… but he could still eat his meal and then have his afternoon session! And Eddie would be nice and obedient and everything! They wouldn't give up on him, no!  
  
Eddie gesticulated, trying to get away from Richie's hug, forgetting to use the slate to express his needs. Not like people ever took the time to read what he was writing anyway…  
  
“You want to get up, Eddie? Careful. ‘Don’t want to have you faceplant against my… I mean our floorboard, right? Fuck, it’s our room now… I’m so happy to have you here, you can’t imagine.”  
  
Richie released Eddie, getting up first, before facing him up, arms stretched towards him. Eddie slowly got up, feeling a bit weak on his wobbly legs. He had to lean on Richie, who happily offered him his body to support him. Eddie took his plush with him, and Richie grabbed the whiteboard, asking enthusiastically to Eddie:  
  
"Okay, so what do you want to do?"  
  
Eddie only gave him a puzzled look, unable to answer. Was he testing him in some way? Eddie didn't know what to do and, if he did, it didn't matter. He had a schedule. Things important to do. Things that people decided for him to do. Tucking his plush under his arm, Eddie took the white slate and wrote sloppily and slowly, having trouble to use the big pen with his clumsy hands:  
  
 _Bathroom. Meal. Therapy. Quiet time. Dinner. Sleeping._  
  
Richie read what he had written, and Eddie found himself unable to interpret his facial expression, still watching him with his puzzled look.  
  
"We… uh… We haven't programmed a therapy session for you yet. We thought you'd like some free time first. Get used to the house and all. And… uh… You don't have to live exactly like you did back then. I… uh… We won't force you to do anything, Eds."  
  
No therapy. Eddie felt an anxious tug in his heart. Not that he liked his sessions, but he had them every day or so, and missing a session or more could set him back. And then, what would happen? If he wasn't able to be a good boy anymore, he would be punished. They would take away his comics, his plush and his mom…  
  
No. His mom… She wasn’t there anymore. She was… She was… Eddie whined weakly and Richie whispered to his ear:  
  
"It's okay, Eddie. I'm here. I'm not leaving you. Let's go to the bathroom, okay? You'll feel better after a shower."  
  
Richie led him to the bathroom. It was very different from his old one. His mom's bathroom was bigger, with a bathtub and all. When they had the time to do so, his mother would put Eddie in a big bubble bath and would wash him thoroughly, while Eddie was mindlessly playing with some toys. But for some reason, he felt safer in Richie's bathroom. No. Their bathroom, right? That's what Richie said about the floorboard. That it was theirs. That was so weird to think about.  
  
"So… uh… I'll let you take your shower. I'll wait for you in our room. You… uh… You're okay with that?"  
  
Eddie looked at him, once again showing him his puzzled expression. That was something that was bound to happen quite often… Eddie had trouble to understand what Richie meant. He was supposed to help him take his shower, no? He had to undress him and to wash him, that's how it happened, that's how it always happened!  
  
When Richie started to leave the bathroom, Eddie called out to him, as best as he could. A panicked “Iiie!” came out of his lips and Richie instantly came back to him, visibly worried:  
  
"What? Are you okay? Do you…? Oh."  
  
Richie seemed to realize the issue. His face got red, redder than Eddie ever saw it, and he mumbled shyly, which was such a "Non-Richie" thing to do that Eddie was clearly taken aback by it:  
  
"You want me… I have to… Uh. I… hmm..."  
  
Richie took a deep breath.  
  
“You… You know that you can do it on your own, right? You remember our sleepover? You took a shower all alone. You never needed any help, right? You remember?”  
  
Eddie thought about it for a while, before nodding. He did remember. A bit. He used to take showers on his own. To take off his clothes all alone, when his mom wasn't forcing him to stay still and "helping him". When did he stop to do that, exactly? Eddie couldn't remember. His thoughts were still confused. He felt like he was floating between different worlds, different realities. He still wasn't totally convinced that he wasn't sleeping right now…  
  
"You… uh… If you wish so, I can stay here. I… I won't look at you or anything, I'm not some kind of pervert..."  
  
Richie chuckled weirdly, and Eddie copied him, unsure of what was so funny about what he said. But he liked to hear Richie laughing, and he liked laughing with him, so…  
  
Richie sat on the floor, turning his head away, fumbling with his glasses.  
  
"If you need my help, you just have to… To tap on my shoulder. I'll see what I can do. But I think you should try to do it alone first, Eds. I know you can do it."  
  
Eddie nodded. He took a deep breath, unsure of where he was supposed to start. He didn't clearly remember the last time he did all of that on his own. Putting his fingers in his mouth, he sucked on them nervously, looking at himself in the mirror. He was wearing a pajama. With buttons. Okay. So he had to unbutton his shirt first, right? That's how it was supposed to go.

Eddie struggled to do so, his hands resisting the mental prompts that he was trying to give to them. When he finally managed to take off his shirt and pants, he felt like he had taken way too much time and needed to hurry up. Going into the shower, Eddie audibly wailed when the cold water hit his skin, fumbling with the tap to get the correct temperature.

"Eds, do you need my help? Hit the wall two times if you do!"  
  
It wasn't an easy feat to wash on his own after all this time, but he didn't want to disappoint Richie in any way, so Eddie decided not to ask for his support. Soon enough, he felt relaxed under the water, sighing, and humming. It was very different, washing himself without any help. Without feeling his mom's touch on his skin, on his hair, on…  
  
Eddie would never feel these things again. He would never hear his mom's voice again. He… He…

Eddie hit his face with his fist and groaned painfully. Instantly, Richie pulled the shower curtain, awfully worried:  
  
"Eddie, you're okay? I'm here if you… if you...”  
  
Richie started to stammer, his eyes glued to Eddie. He instantly closed the shower curtain, letting out with a weak voice:  
  
"I'm here if you need help. I'm still here."  
  
Eddie nodded, even if Richie couldn't see him. He was okay. He was just… Just… Confused. Tired. Sad. Many, many things that he had trouble to handle. That his brain didn't allow him to properly process at the moment.  
  
Clean and a bit more relaxed than before, Eddie left the shower, taking the clothes that Richie had prepared for him to dress up on his own. Shirt? Done. Underwear? Done. Shorts? Done. He tapped Richie's shoulder, who looked at him, before smiling happily:  
  
"Almost perfect, Eds. Your shirt is backward, though. Unless you're trying to set a new trend? I mean, I guess I could get behind it. 'Might be weird with my Hawaiian shirts, I guess."  
  
Eddie groaned loudly, struggling to take off his shirt and to put it back on correctly. Richie gave him the thumbs up, and Eddie smiled clumsily. He had really managed to wash all alone! To take off his clothes and to put them back on, almost without any help… He could do it. He really could do it!  
  
Hugging his plush, Eddie followed Richie slowly to his… no, to their living room. His face brightened when he saw Maggie and Wentworth Tozier. It had been so long! So, so, so long! He flapped his hand and let out a happy squeak, prompting Richie to roll his eyes:  
  
"So they have the flapping and all, and I get nothing? I'm so jealous… I’m gonna sulk in my room, if that’s how I’m treated!”  
  
Richie pretended to step back, but Eddie immediately grabbed his arm and whined, visibly worried. He let go of his plush, who fell on the ground, before writing as quickly as he could on his whiteboard:  
  
 _Sorry sorry sorry_

Richie’s eyes widened while he read what Eddie had written, and he shook immediately his head:  
  
“No, no, no, Eds, I’m not angry, I swear. I… I was just joking. ‘Should have been more explicit. Sorry.”  
  
Eddie kept looking at him worryingly, until Went caught his attention, giving him back his plush. Eddie instantly hugged it, while the man said:  
  
“You know Richie, son. He’s not angry. He just doesn’t know how to deliver a joke, as usual...”  
  
Went ruffled Richie’s hair, while Richie let out a “Dad!” offended. Eddie found himself giggling at the sight. It was… familiar. Strangely familiar.  
  
“We thought you might be hungry, Eddie.” Maggie said, offering him a tender smile. “I cooked some pasta and some cookies too. I hope you’ll still like them.”  
  
Everyone sat down at the table and Eddie did as well, feeling nervous. They all started to eat and Eddie waited. Waited. Waited. Richie was the first one to realize what was happening and whispered to him softly:  
  
“You’re allowed to eat, Eds. And I know you can do it all alone. You want to give it a try?”  
  
Eddie did eat on his own sometimes. When his therapist was there and his mother didn’t want her to see how much she was controlling and “coddling” her son, like she said to him. He took his fork, looking at the plate filled with pasta. It’s been a while since he ate that much. His mom always gave him tiny portions, that he had trouble to digest sometimes. So, something big like that...  
  
He wasn’t sure he could eat all of that, to be honest. But he would try. He took his fork, looking at Richie to be sure that he was doing it okay. That he wasn’t disobeying, that he wasn’t being bad. Richie gave him an encouraging nod and Eddie took his first bite. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It was so good. So fucking good. Eddie didn’t remember the last time he ate something THAT good. It was… It was…  
  
“You like it, Eddie?” Maggie asked, smiling happily.  
  
Eddie nodded and whined enthusiastically, almost spilling out his food in the process. Realizing what could have happened, Eddie gulped and curled up on his chair, biting his fingers harshly. They were going to punish him. They would take away his comics. His plush. Maybe they’d chase him out? He was being bad! Bad, bad, bad, bad! Without his mom, he couldn’t… he was… he… Mom… Mommy...  
  
Eddie screamed, raising his arms so suddenly and brutally that his plate flew off the table, breaking in pieces on the floor. The noise made him even more nervous, and he dug his fingers in his scalp, hitting his head against the table before Richie or anyone was able to stop him to do so. Wentworth managed to prevent him to do it a second time, taking him in his arms and hugging him tightly against his body:  
  
“Come on, son. You’re okay. You’re okay. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. You’re okay. You’re okay.”  
  
He repeated that again and again, Eddie squirming against him, whining weakly. He was exhausted when he finally managed to calm down, sitting on his chair with a defeated expression. He saw the mess he made and tried to get up to clean it, but to no avail.  
  
“I got it, Eds!” Richie assured him, smiling widely to him.  
  
Eddie felt so bad. He ruined Maggie’s meal, the one she had prepared for him. And now, Richie was repairing the damage that he had caused and Eddie hated it. He hated it so much. No, more than that. He hated himself so, so much.  
  
Grabbing his plush, Eddie hugged it tightly, biting nervously its ear. He rocked on his chair, humming loudly, trying to soothe himself. No one stopped him. No one tried to shut him up or to force him to stay still. He didn’t know how long he was doing that when he finally stopped. But everyone kept on eating and talking, as if everything was all okay, as if he didn’t make an awful mess and screamed his lungs out. It was… It was weirdly reassuring.  
  
“You’re with us, Eds? We’re about to eat some cookies. Do you want to eat them too or do you want another plate of pasta?”  
  
Another decision. Another choice he was supposed to make. Eddie was still at a loss with this idea. Richie handed him his slate and his pen, encouraging him to write. To say what he was thinking. What he wanted. Eddie thought about it for a long, long time, munching mindlessly on his plush’s ear while doing so. It was hard, making choices, when he was so used to everyone deciding everything for him. So, so hard…  
  
Finally, he managed to write, giving back the slate to Richie and trying to guess if he was okay with what he had decided, what he had written on the board:  
  
 _Cookies._  
  
Richie nodded happily, handing him a plate of cookies.  
  
“They’re still the best! Take all the time you need, we don’t have anything planned. Except eating those delicious cookies, of course!”  
  
Richie ate his first cookie with a joyful expression on his face. Eddie hesitantly started to eat his, shivering at the delightful taste. This time, they allowed him to get used to the feeling, letting him eat the whole cookie before asking him if he liked it. Eddie nodded with a big smile, flapping his hands wildly. He was too happy right now to think about his behavior, the things he was usually punished for. He was eating cookies with Richie and his family. What a wonderful dream it was… He hoped it would last for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the end of the first chapter. I think it's going to set the tone for this whole series. Basically, I want a balanced mix between fluffy moments and harsher stuff. Eddie and his family deserve some rest, but what he went through is not something you can just brush off, so he'll have to deal with the traumatic side of it.
> 
> Next chapter, I'm probably going to skip a few days. I don't know if it's going to be from Eddie or Richie's POV, we'll see. Don't hesitate to comments and/or leave kudos, I'd love to know what you thought about this chapter! Bye!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Here's the 2nd chapter! I couldn't stop thinking about it, so I had to write it down (it's like almost 4 AM in my country right now xD). I hope you'll like it! Thank you so much for your support!
> 
> I did say before that we were going to skip a couple of days, but finally, it's not the case. So enjoy this first day of Eddie with Richie, from Richie's POV!
> 
> As always, here are the Trigger Warnings:
> 
> TW for internalized homophobia  
> TW for homophobic slurs  
> TW for internalized ableism  
> TW for infantilization (mentioned and self-inflicted)  
> TW for self-harm

Richie wasn't enough of a fool to think that it would be easy. That Eddie would just be fine and dandy with what happened, what he had to endure, and this sudden shift in his life, on which he had no control at all. He did his best to prepare himself for this moment, for the day Eddie would return to them, the day they would finally greet him in his family, the one who truly loved him.

He wanted to be there for his friend in any way possible. He wanted to support him, help him, make him the happiest man in the world. Richie had read, a lot. Books that he wasn't sure might help him, books that reminded him a bit too much of what Eddie probably had to go through in his therapy sessions, judging by what he had seen from the documentary movie they filmed of him.

But he still did his best. Richie paid for a queen-sized bed, knowing that there was no way he would let Eddie sleep all alone after what he had lived. Maybe later, when he'll feel like it… To be honest, Richie didn't want to sleep on his own either. His nights were plagued with nightmares and waking up in the cold solitude, and the darkness surrounding him was clearly the worst. Richie was probably a bit selfish, even though he tried to convince himself that he just wanted to be there for Eddie…

His room was going to become _their_ room. Such a weird, strange feeling… Richie had smiled weakly, thinking about the kid that he used to be, this little shit who hated the idea of having a brother or a sister to share his room and toys with. But Richie wasn't a child anymore. And, even though Eddie was becoming a part of his family, he couldn't think of him as a brother. That would be… wrong. Wrong in so many ways.

Eddie was his best friend. Richie wouldn't dare to hope for more, and he was definitely not going to confuse the hell out of his friend even more than he probably already was. Eddie's well-being was what mattered the most. The rest could wait… indefinitely. Richie would just close his little heart, throw the key away, and never try to open it again. Yeah, simple enough, right? Right…

Anyway, when the day finally happened, Richie was nervous. So, so nervous. And he had every right to be. The medical staff wasn't optimistic about Eddie, which frustrated Richie to no end. Did they even try to speak to him? Or did they just give him one look and decide that he was done for? Fuck them. Fuck them all. Richie didn't care if Eddie never talked again. If he couldn't live on his own and might depend on him from now on. As long as he was happy, Richie would be satisfied.

Against Richie and his parents' will, the doctors drugged Eddie for the trip back to their home. They didn't even have the time to talk to him, to explain what was going to happen. Did anyone even take the time to do so? Richie doubted it. And he hated that. He hated that so much. He would never treat Eddie that way. That was a promise.

Richie was the one who touched him, wheeled him to their car, who made sure that he was safely installed right next to him. He also made sure that they wouldn't forget his plush, that seemed so special for Eddie. He would be devastated if he couldn't hug it anymore… Fuck, Richie missed him so much.

The road trip was quite long, but Richie didn't mind. He was wholly focused on Eddie, making sure that he was comfortably installed, that he wouldn't feel any residual pain from his posture or anything. Richie wiped his lips when Eddie started to drool, with the softest touch. He knew that he shouldn't think like that, that it wouldn't help Eddie in the long term, but Richie was scared. He was scared to hurt him, more than he already was.

Would he be able to make him happy again? Eddie had gone through things that Richie couldn't even imagine most of his life. It was obvious that Richie and his parents' love wouldn't be enough, that Eddie would need professional help, but still. What if it wasn't enough to bring back a smile on his lips? What if he was still trapped, trapped by his mother's abuse and influence, forcing him into an existence of perpetual suffering? No… No! Richie couldn't accept that. He wouldn't accept that. He'll do anything to save Eddie from this unfathomable fate. Absolutely anything.

That's what he thought when they finally arrived home, Eddie still drugged out of his mind, letting out some weird noise from time to time. Richie put him to bed, covering him precociously with his fluffy blanket. He watched over Eddie, never leaving his side. He was relieved when his mother brought him back Eddie's plush, thoroughly cleaned. She didn't try to fix its ear for now, wanting to do so, but unsure if she would be able to accomplish this feat. Later. They'd think about that later.

Eddie woke up and they had their first day together. Richie was overjoyed to have him back, but he couldn't deny the damage Sonia Kaspbrak had done to her son. Eddie was… He seemed like a shadow of himself.

It wasn't because he was mostly silent, aside from his whines and noises, that Richie did his best to properly understand, and, unfortunately, his desperate screams, that Richie hated to hear. Eddie was communicating, more than Richie could have hoped for after what happened, and he could only admire him for his resilience. But… But Eddie always seemed so lost. Afraid, even.

His whole life had been planned for him. Every day was the same. He was so used to comply that he seemed to have forgotten that he could actually think for himself and make choices all alone. Richie almost cried when he asked Eddie what he wanted to do and his friend had only been able to write down his usual schedule, waiting for his confirmation that he was indeed giving the right answer.

There was no wrong or right in all of this, Richie just wanted Eddie to do what he wanted to do. But the entire day, Eddie always looked for his approbation, feared that he might disapprove his actions, what he was trying to communicate.

Richie tried his best to encourage him to be a bit more independent and make his own decisions, but he knew that they would need a long time before Eddie would start to feel comfortable enough to do so naturally. At least, Eddie already said that he wanted cookies instead of another plate of pasta, after having broken it in a panic fit. It might seem small, almost ridiculous, but Richie knew well enough that it was a big step, in so little time. That making this choice asked a lot of Eddie.

Eddie didn't dare to talk to him if Richie didn't approach him first. Eddie was looking at him, trying to get his attention somehow, but too scared to make it really obvious and direct. Sidelong glances. Humming sounds. Anything he could think of to show that he wanted to say something, but that Richie could easily ignore if he felt like it. But the simple fact of having this thought broke Richie's heart. As if he could willingly ignore Eddie…

When Richie talked to him, Eddie would allow himself to communicate, albeit in a rather simplistic way. Richie had trouble figuring out if it was because he had some difficulties in writing properly, if he was tired because of the meds or if it was just his way of communicating now, but he would let himself and Eddie the time to figure it out. It wasn't a priority right now.

Richie just wanted to make sure that Eddie would have a nice first day in their home. That he already had two meltdowns in such a short time was so painful to witness. But to experience it directly, Richie couldn't quite imagine it… He had his fits too, but they never were intense like that. If he could take that away from him, Richie would. Without any hesitation.

Even though everything was different, Richie was savoring the fact that Eddie was with him. He loved to see him flap his hands happily, something he rarely did before, but that Richie always found endearing. Who would want to annihilate something like that? Something that made Eddie so happy? Richie couldn't understand. He didn't want to understand. Thinking about this mockery of a therapist, who spent her time forcing Eddie to stay still, stopping him from having any kind of gesture that might not look "normal" to their eyes… It made him angry. So angry.

Richie took a deep breath. He needed to stay calm. No need to get furious against someone that wasn't even here. Eddie was more important than this. Eddie mattered more than anything else. And the fact that he was there, alive, talking with him the best he could after what he went through… It was nothing short of a miracle. A miracle that Richie could only attribute to Eddie and how strong he was.

In the span of a few hours, Richie realized that he had become Eddie's guide in some way. Eddie didn't leave his side, following him everywhere he went. Richie had called him his "duckling" and Eddie had pouted briefly before going back to his usual expression, as if he was scared to let him know how he was feeling. Richie hated that. He hated that so much.

It became quite embarrassing when Richie actually had to say out loud that he was going to use the bathroom and that he really wanted to do that without an audience, thanks a lot. Richie tried his best to make it sound like a joke, which it was, smiling widely to Eddie, but he still took him seriously, writing a series of _Sorry_ on his white slate and taking a few steps back to let Richie go do his business.

He really needed to think more before speaking. Maybe, for now, he should start to preface his jokes by telling him that he was going to make a joke? In any other circumstance, Richie would have groaned loudly at the idea, saying that it would ruin his so perfect humor. But he didn't want to hurt Eddie while trying to make him laugh like he used to. This wasn't an easy balance to strike.

It was just their first day together, and Richie knew that he was bound to make some mistakes, but he loathed the idea. He wanted to be the best for Eddie, to make him happy and to allow him to forget his dreadful past as much as he could. He had to accept that he would not be perfect and Richie really had trouble doing so.

When he left the bathroom, Eddie was sitting right next to the door, curled up on the floor, hugging his plush. As soon as he noticed Richie's presence, Eddie got up on his feet, quickly, too quickly. He lost his balance, a bit dizzy, and Richie had to catch him before he fell. Eddie leaned on him, moaning sleepily.

"Hey, stay with me for a bit, Eds. Do you want to go back to our room or to rest on the couch and watch some TV?" 

Richie was trying his best to push Eddie to make some decisions, even if it meant presenting him limited options. Ideally, Eddie would just be able to say what he wanted, but things didn't work that way right now, and Richie wasn't going to force him to do something too intense for him that quickly. He already needed quite a bit of time to think about the subject and to actually make a choice.

Eddie was looking at Richie thoughtfully, head raised towards him and slightly tilted to the side, lips opening and closing on a word that he couldn't quite say. He finally managed to write on his slate, his hand shaking slightly:

_Couch?_

And it hurt. Seeing this little question mark, this choice that was more a query than anything else, and how obvious it was that Eddie was waiting for him to approve or disapprove his decision. Richie knew that Eddie would not protest if he told him that he was going to his room, even though he asked otherwise. Maybe Eddie would scratch his palm or bit his bottom lip, but he would just comply in the end. As if what he was thinking, what he wanted didn't matter in the slightest.

Fuck… Fuck! That wasn't fair… No one deserved to go through that. _Eddie_ didn’t deserve to go through all of that. Richie wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. But he buried his feelings as best as he could, knowing that Eddie was waiting, that he was getting anxious, that he needed an answer from him right now. Richie took another deep breath, before flashing a smile towards Eddie. Not like he had to force it too much. Just having Eddie back made him want to grin stupidly for the rest of his life.

"Couch is perfect, yup. Me likey! I think they have some re-runs of an old western movie or something..." 

Eddie seemed particularly interested by what Richie just said. A clumsy smile, closer to a grimace than anything else, took place on his face, and he bounced on his feet, humming happily. Did Eddie like western films? They never really had the opportunity to talk about this particular subject before… But seeing him brighten up like this, Richie had absolutely no doubt about it.

Leading Eddie to the couch, he sat next to him, switching the channels until they found the western movie he was talking about. Eddie focused very intensively on the TV screen, and Richie gave him his whole attention, unable to concentrate on the film for more than a few seconds.

He was so cute, totally invested in the movie, squealing happily at some parts, actively trying to get Richie to enjoy the parts he loved so much, grabbing his sleeve and pointing his finger towards the screen. So fucking cute. Richie almost pinched his cheeks, like he used to do, stopping himself before he got the chance to do it. Eddie didn't seem to notice, too focused on his movie, but Richie couldn't stop thinking about it.

Fuck… Could he even do that to Eddie anymore? Pinching his cheeks, calling him cute, teasing him like he used to? It was only a joke to him. Not the "cute" part, Eddie was definitely cute. And beautiful. And awesome. And many, many things. But what seemed harmless before would probably be experienced very differently by Eddie now.

From what he had seen, Eddie had continuously been infantilized. By his mother, by his therapist, by every person he ever encountered during those five years. They treated him like a baby, happy to pretend that he wouldn't understand, that it wouldn't hurt him in any way. They touched him without asking him, called him "Good boy", "Eddie bear", "My poor baby". Never just "Eddie" or even "Edward".

Calling him cute, pinching his cheeks like Richie almost did… It would probably remind Eddie of how he was usually treated. He wouldn't protest. He wouldn't move. He wouldn't swat his hand away or call him an idiot. He would just… endure it. Until Richie would decide that it was enough. That wasn't what Richie wanted for Eddie. He didn't want to remind him of his mother or those who abused him in any way.

Eddie grabbed his sleeve once again, pulling him out of his thoughts. Richie smiled softly while Eddie was showing him a scene featuring a stalemate, visibly excited by what was going to happen. Richie did his best to pay attention to the movie, but his focus kept drifting towards Eddie. Seeing him smile. Clapping his hands. Moving his legs wildly. He forced himself to stop looking at him when his parents joined them, sitting on the couch next to them. Fuck… He really had it bad for Eddie, that was fucking sure…

As enthusiastic as he was, Eddie was still awfully tired, and he fell asleep on his shoulder before the end of the movie, snoring lightly. Richie did his best to stay still, smiling shyly to his parents. Maggie whispered, offering her son a smile back:

"He seems so peaceful when he's like this, don't you think?" 

"Yeah." Richie said, turning his head towards Eddie to look at him. "Yeah, he does." 

Not wanting him to be too uncomfortable, Richie slowly and carefully moved Eddie so that his head would rest on his knees. Eddie barely stirred in his sleep, letting out an incoherent noise here and there. Richie started to caress his hair, feeling himself relaxing thanks to the touch.

"How are you feeling, son? Is everything okay?" 

Richie looked at his father, not really sure how to answer his question. He was overjoyed to have Eddie with him. That he was trusting him like he was, Richie wouldn't have dared to hope for it, especially so soon. But… But fuck… He was so… He looked so… Richie didn't want to think the word, he didn't want to think that about Eddie, but… he seemed so fucking fragile. His mother hurt him in a way that Richie couldn't even begin to comprehend, and it showed in so many ways, some more visible than others.

“I’m… I'm fine. I'm just… tired." 

His father gave him an understanding smile, caressing his cheek briefly:

"Don't push yourself too much. We're here too." 

"I know, I know…. I just… I want to be there for him, you know? As much as I can." 

Richie felt that he was starting to tear up and he did his best to prevent himself from doing so, pushing up his glasses to wipe his eyes:

"I hate her. I hate her so fucking much. She… Eddie… It's not fair..." 

"No, it's not." His mom whispered softly. "And we can't change what happened. But we can make sure that Eddie's never going to be treated like that ever again. You need to be patient, Richie. And to think about yourself." 

Richie snorted loudly at her words and Eddie woke up for a second, seemingly lost and confused, before drifting back to sleep. Forcing himself to be quieter, Richie mumbled:

"Mike said that too. Before all of that. When Mrs. K. was still… still..." 

He had troubles to finish his sentence, to acknowledge this reality. He felt guilty, even though they keep telling him that he wasn't. His mom and dad looked at each other for a while, before his mom suggested carefully to him:

"Richie? Me and your dad, we talked about it, and we thought that it might do you some good if you started to see a therapist again. Of course, you don't have to if you don't want to, but… but it might help." 

"You could talk about things that you can't share with us. That you have troubles to deal with." 

For a second, Richie was utterly scared that they might have guessed that he was gay and that they didn't dare to tell him. Or maybe they felt too disgusted to say the word? No. No, they probably talked about Sonia Kaspbrak and how fucking guilty he felt about her. Nope, they had absolutely no idea that their son was a faggot and that he was desperately in love with Eddie Kaspbrak. And none of them would ever know, that was for sure…

Still, he really needed to talk to someone. Freely. He just hoped he could find a therapist that would actually accept him, instead of just trying to convince him that he was wrong just for feeling what he was feeling.

"Yeah. Yeah, I thought so too. I'll make an appointment with a therapist. I… uh… I think it could be good for Eddie too. Me seeing a therapist." 

His parents looked at him with an interrogative expression, and Richie shrugged:

"I mean… He never really saw what a real therapy session is all about. If we're telling him right away that he's going to see a therapist, chances are that he's going to freak out… or he'll probably keep his fear to himself and bury it until he can't stand it anymore. I know that it's not very conventional, but if I took Eddie with me to my first session, it might help him feel less anxious about that." 

Richie wasn't totally at ease with the idea of sharing a session with Eddie. Or with anyone else, for that matter. He was probably going to avoid the subject "Sonia Kaspbrak" to not trigger Eddie uselessly. And he certainly wasn't going to talk about his sexuality. But still… It might be a good way to gauge his future therapist. See if they would fit. If they just accepted Eddie and didn't try to analyze him or what, if they understood what Richie was trying to do, then it would be a very good omen.

At least, Richie thought so. He just wanted to offer some peace of mind to Eddie. Eddie definitely needed to see someone. It was even mandatory, a condition for them to take care of him. But Richie had no intention to make him go through what he had endured before. The idea wasn't to "normalize" Eddie. Richie hated this idea, something that they also tried to impose to him and his father sometimes, trying to erase what was making them _different_ , at the cost of their well-being.  
  
No. Richie wanted Eddie to be able to put words on what he had gone through. To accept his past and to freed himself from his mother's abuse and influence, so that he would finally be happy. To be able to express himself in a way that suited him and make choices Richie wouldn't necessarily approve of. Right now, he was more than happy to be there to stabilize Eddie and offer him some guidance, but it wouldn't help him in the long term. Eddie needed to do things on his own, to decide things all alone.  
  
But one thing at a time. For now, Richie was more than content to let Eddie sleep on his knees while watching some movie distractedly. He still had to wake him up when it was time for them to eat. Eddie was visibly tired, his head bobbing up and down, but they didn't want to send him to bed without eating something.  
  
His mother had reheated some chicken nuggets and french fries, that they could eat with their fingers. Which was for the best since Eddie didn't seem to be able to use his fork properly right now, his fingers barely closing up on the cutlery. He was chewing slowly, eyes unfocused, and almost fell asleep in his plate.  
  
When it happened, Richie knew that it would be best to just get him to bed. Leaving his own plate unfinished, he gave an apologetic expression to his parents, who just nodded and told him to go with Eddie. Eddie was barely standing on his own feet as if he was sleepwalking. Richie had cautiously wiped his hands when it was clear that Eddie wouldn't think to do it himself, before giving him back his plush.  
  
Eddie hugged it in a reflex, mouth agape, eyelids fluttering. Richie helped him up the stairs, carefully and slowly. He knew that Eddie would freak out if he woke up in the morning without brushing his teeth the day before, so he led him to the bathroom, whispering to his ear:  
  
"Eddie, I'm sorry, but I'm gonna need to brush my teeth. Do you think you can do it on your own?"  
  
Eddie looked at him with a foggy stare before nodding slowly. Richie let him take care of his business, watching him closely in case he needed his help. He almost spilled the toothpaste right next to his toothbrush but managed to do it correctly in the end. Richie brushed his own teeth, spitting in the bathroom sink.  
  
He almost started to laugh out loud when he raised his head from the sink and saw that Eddie started to doze off, his toothbrush still in his mouth. Richie shouldn't find that cute or attractive… But in some weird way, he did. Everything that Eddie was doing seemed strangely endearing to him. He could spend his entire life watching Eddie living, and he would be the happiest man in the world.  
  
Whispering his name softly, Richie managed to wake up Eddie, long enough to allow him to put away his toothbrush and rinse his mouth. He still needed him to put his pajama on, though…  
  
Richie really wanted Eddie to be able to do that all alone. Not only because he was encouraging him to be independent as much as he could, but also because he was definitely not ready to see him naked and to touch his body like… like this. He saw him accidentally while Eddie was taking a shower, and it was already too much. Richie couldn’t help, but feel _dirty_. _Dirty_ thoughts, _dirty_ look. And Eddie didn't deserve that from him. Far from that.  
  
It was quite a struggle. Eddie managed to put his pants on, but he gave up altogether on his buttoned shirt. Richie buttoned it for him while Eddie was sitting on the bed, constantly dozing on and off. Eddie was exhausted, that was for sure. Probably a combination of the drugs in his system, his panic fits and this whole change in his life on which he had no control and that he just had to accept…  
  
Richie knew that it was for the best, but he still felt bad, knowing that no one ever thought to ask him what he wanted. Maybe he would have said that he wanted to be with him, with Richie's family, but still. He never got to ask for it or to choose his own path and that… that wasn't okay. That wasn't okay at all.  
  
Helping Eddie to get under the blanket, Richie smiled when he saw him falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, hugging his plush. Turning off the light, keeping his shutters open so that they wouldn't be in the complete darkness, Richie laid down next to Eddie, looking at him. It was still early, there was no chance that Richie would fall asleep. But he didn't want to leave Eddie alone and, to be honest, he was perfectly fine here, just him and his best friend, away from the rest of the world.  
  
Eddie was quite noisy and expressive in his sleep, that was for sure. Richie clearly remembered him snoring, which he was still doing, but he didn't remember him whining like he was right now, eyebrows furrowed, nose scrunched up. Richie had it so bad for him. So, so bad. Why did it make his heart beat that way, seeing Eddie like that? It shouldn't look so beautiful, Richie shouldn't feel so tender, looking at him and hearing him… But he couldn't help it.  
  
Richie stopped smiling when he noticed that Eddie had gotten agitated in his sleep. He was moving, hitting Richie's leg by accident, letting out a moan filled with fear. As if he was trying to silence himself unconsciously, Eddie put his fingers in his mouth, three whole fingers, and started to bite on them harshly.  
  
Panicked at the idea that Eddie might hurt himself pretty badly, Richie did his best to take his fingers out of his mouth, without making him suffer in the process. He hugged him tightly, trying to chase the nightmares away, to make him feel safe. Richie felt a weird, humid feeling on his neck and realized that Eddie was munching on his collar, biting and sucking on the fabric.  
  
It was… It was definitely weird. And baffling. And every synonym of "disconcerting" that Richie could think of. But he probably shouldn't have been surprised. Even before Sonia Kaspbrak took him away, Richie remembered that Eddie had some kind of oral fixation, biting on his nails and his fingers when he was getting nervous. Confused and anxious as he was, no wonder Eddie relied unconsciously on this mechanism to center himself, to find some comfort in his sleep.  
  
That was still… weird. And Richie hated that he liked to have Eddie's lips so close to his neck. That he wished he would kiss him for real. He felt hot and confused and, more than that, _disgusting_. Richie forced himself to think about unpleasant things. He didn't have to cogitate too much. Almost instantly, he started to think about Mrs Kaspbrak’s death, like he did every fucking night. No way he was going to get a fucking boner when he kept seeing her dying, over and over, like his own personal Groundhog Day.  
  
When Richie managed to find some sleep, his cheeks were covered with tears. And he was definitely not having a pleasant dream. But Eddie was safe in his arms, so everything was fine, right? Right...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah... Richie clearly needs someone to talk to. And to think more about himself. But one step at a time, right?
> 
> Fun fact: Eddie's oral fixation is based on mine. I used to have a chewing necklace, that I would chew on whenever I felt intense emotions (whether it was my anxiety kicking in or I was really happy or excited about something). Sometimes, when I'm deep in my thoughts, I find myself biting or sucking on my fingers and it's quite embarrassing in public. I tried to find some alternatives, but since I don't have my chewing necklace anymore, I didn't really find a good compromise.
> 
> Anyway, that was the 2nd chapter! I hope you liked it! Don't hesitate to leave comments and/or kudos. I love to read what you thought about this chapter or my story c:. 
> 
> Have a nice day!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Here's the third chapter, featuring Eddie's POV. We're moving quite slowly for now, I really want to take the time to properly install this whole situation before moving forward. Don't hesitate to tell me if you feel like I'm being too slow! 
> 
> Thank you for all your thoughtful comments and your support! That you're still here means so much to me. Welcome to the newcomers as well!
> 
> Here are the Trigger Warnings for this chapter:
> 
> TW for internalized ableism  
> TW for mention of ableism behavior  
> TW for ableist words  
> TW for self-harm  
> TW for infantilization (self-inflicted and mentioned)
> 
> Good reading!
> 
> Edit : I just corrected a few typos. I read it multiple times, but I seem to be unable to spot those until it's uploaded. Shame on me xD.

Eddie slowly opened his eyes on a new day. The only thing he could see right now was Richie's shoulder. His friend was hugging him so tightly in his sleep that Eddie could barely move, squirming slightly to try to allow himself to breathe a little. When he felt Richie starting to stir, he forced himself to stop, not wanting to wake up his friend. Richie stayed asleep, to Eddie's relief.  
  
Was he still dreaming? Hard to say… A part of him wished to go back to his routine, to his day-to-day life where he knew exactly what would happen most of the time, and he just had to… be there and obey. It was less stressful and… and it meant that his mother was alive and not dead because of him. Because he pushed her.  
  
Eddie put his index finger between his lips, biting and sucking on it to prevent himself from going into a meltdown and bothering Richie in the process. His friend had been so nice to him the day before… Eddie could barely believe it. And certainly not understand it. After all, he had been nothing, but a brat, experiencing violent fits and forcing Richie to take care of him when he probably had better things to do.  
  
If his mother saw him like that, she would have probably locked him in his room, taking away his plush and comics, because he didn't deserve this comfort if he was misbehaving. Maybe that was something bound to happen later? Eddie had absolutely no idea what to expect from the next few days or even the next hours. It was… stressful.  
  
The day before, he didn't even have a single therapy session. Eddie never missed his therapy sessions. Even when he was sick, he still had to go through it, because that's what allowed him to be a good boy and loved by his mother. He needed her love. He needed her. Eddie was lost without her. And she wasn't here anymore. She…  
  
Eddie bit his finger even harder, feeling the copper taste of blood in his mouth. He knew that he wasn't supposed to do that, but he couldn't help it. His plush was not within easy reach, having slipped from his hands during the night, and he needed something to let out the anxiety that was invading his mind. At least, he wasn't making too much noise, and Richie could sleep in peace. It was all that mattered.  
  
Sucking on his painful finger, Eddie looked at Richie, listening to his breathing, to his heartbeat. It's been five years since he saw him. He changed quite a bit, that was for sure. He was a lot taller, which was a bit infuriating when Eddie barely grew up himself, and his traits were a bit harsher, leaving behind what was left of the child he used to be. Still the same big glasses, though. Without them, Eddie wondered if he would have recognized his friend. He wasn't sure of that.  
  
And now, they were sleeping together, like they did during their sleepover. It was… nice. Better than to be in his old single bed, all alone, terrified when his mom would put him in the full darkness to teach him a lesson and make sure he wouldn't try to rebel against her again. He hated the darkness. It made him nervous. Anxious. Scared. And she knew it.  
  
But his mom only did that when he wasn't behaving well. She was nice if he was a good boy, so it must have been his fault, right? Bad boys needed to be punished. And he hadn't been punished when he had his tantrums the day before. When he broke his plate and ruined Maggie's meal.  
  
Maybe they were waiting for him to realize that fact? That he was in the wrong and needed to apologize and to ask to be punished? Good boys knew when they weren't good. He'll talk to Richie when he'll wake up. Ask him what he thought he should do. Eddie hoped that the punishment wouldn't be too harsh. That they wouldn't take his plush away. He needed it. It was all that was left of his father. That's what helped him when it was so hard for him to be a good boy.  
  
Eddie realized that he didn't have anything left from his mother, that she was just gone, and he couldn't stop the nervous humming coming from his throat. He chewed on his index finger, hitting his head with his hand flat, only realizing a few minutes later that he had woken up Richie, his friend stopping him from hurting himself even more.  
  
His eyelids fluttered a bit, while Eddie was pulled out of his confused state. Richie gave him a weak smile, saying with a sleepy voice:  
  
“Hey, Eds. Back with me?”  
  
Eddie looked at him, still chewing on his finger. He allowed Richie to take it out of his lips, mouthing a "Sorry" that he couldn't vocalize when his friend grimaced.  
  
“Okay, let’s get up. I’m gonna help you with that. ‘Looks painful as fuck.”  
  
Richie left his bed, yawning. Eddie felt awfully guilty for waking him up. He should have stayed put and quiet, waiting for him to open his eyes all alone and to decide when it was time for Eddie to leave the bed. Bad, he had been bad. Bad, bad, bad. Eddie couldn't stop his nervous humming, starting to hit himself once again while he was sitting on the mattress.  
  
Eddie struggled this time when Richie tried to stop him. He needed this. He needed to hurt himself because it was too much, and he had been a bad boy. Why was Richie preventing him from doing so? Eddie whined pitifully, agitating his legs. Why wasn't Richie hitting him? His mom would have hit him herself if he had been behaving that way in front of her! She didn't hit him very often, but when she did, he would calm down and be a good boy for her. Why wasn't he hitting him?  
  
"Hey, hey, hey, Eds. Look at me. Breathe. Don't push yourself. We have all the time in the world. Your whiteboard is just here if you need to talk. I'm listening. Please, do you want to tell me what's wrong?"  
  
Eddie looked at his whiteboard, taking it in his hand when Richie freed him from his grasp. He tapped on the slate with the pen, trying to put his confused thoughts into words. It was so hard to do. He wasn't used to people paying attention to him, actually reading what he was writing. Did he even deserve it? He had been _bad_ , after all. That's what he wrote on his slate. _BAD_.  
  
Richie looked at the white slate with a puzzled expression, before paying attention to Eddie, watching him thoughtfully.  
  
"Do… Do you feel bad? Does it hurt somewhere? Your finger, maybe? I'm going to take care of it. Always dreamed of being your personal sexy nurse, Eddie. I wasn't prepared, so you won't have the outfit, but..."  
  
Eddie shook his head, tapping on the word with his pen. Bad, bad, bad. He had been bad. Richie must have seen it. He had to know it. How could he not realize it? His mom always knew when he was bad, and she punished him accordingly. That was necessary. He whined, trying to say the words that he meant to say, only managing to let out an incoherent mumble, far away from any recognizable sound.  
  
"Eddie, you're working yourself up into another fit. You need to calm down. Let’s… Let's go to the bathroom. I'll bandage your finger, and then we could eat our breakfast together. Dad is working and mom is probably sleeping, so you’ll get the special Tozier treatment, how about that?”  
  
Why was he so nice to him? It wasn't normal. Eddie couldn't understand a single thing. But he nodded and followed Richie to the bathroom, because his friend must be hungry, and he didn't want to make him wait too much before eating. As always, Eddie took with him his plush and his white slate. He chewed on his teddy bear's ear, while Richie was taking care of his hurt finger.  
  
"There! Good as new! I hope it's not too tight? I'm playing the nurse, but honestly, I'm pretty, pretty bad in this role. I’m usually the one who has to be bandaged and all. I’m still the same idiot, in case you were wondering...”  
  
Eddie shook his head very seriously, and he wrote on his board, very focused on his task to make sure that it was legible and understandable:  
  
_Not an idiot._  
  
Richie laughed after reading his words, and Eddie pouted, frowning his eyebrows. He was serious! Richie couldn't insult himself like that, especially since it was all wrong! Richie was very intelligent. Eddie remembered how he used to help him with his homework and some of their discussions, so interesting. Richie was far from being an idiot!  
  
He underlined what he had written multiple times, shaking his legs, and Richie laughed even more:  
  
“Okay, okay, I get it. Not an idiot. I recognize my favorite tiny angry gremlin. Don’t hesitate to give me shit, okay?”  
  
Eddie raised his eyebrow at Richie's words. Giving him “shit”? What? Eddie wasn't supposed to do that. He was supposed to be a good boy, and good boys weren't allowed to "give shit" to someone else. He wasn't even entirely sure what Richie meant by that. Erasing what he had written, he filled carefully and slowly his white slate, showing it to his friend:  
  
_Can't be bad. Have to be good._  
  
Richie sighed when he read what he wrote, and Eddie curled up on himself, feeling shameful. Was Richie annoyed with him? Did he say something wrong? Oh god, he had been bad once again! He barely woke up, and he had been nothing but bad this morning! He missed his therapy sessions, and that's what happened. Eddie was the worst. Richie had to punish him! Richie or his mother or anyone else, but someone had to do it! It was important! It was necessary!  
  
Eddie whined, underlining the word "bad" again and again until Richie stopped him, caressing his hand that was gripping the pen painfully. Richie stayed quiet for a while, apparently unsure of what he was going to say, but he finally told him, very seriously:  
  
"You're not being bad, Eddie. I swear. You're confused and stressed out, and honestly, you're taking all of this way better than I ever could. If I were you, I would already have ran away screaming, butt naked. A sight for the neighborhood, for sure, but..."  
  
Eddie couldn't stop himself from laughing at the idea. He put his hands on his mouth when he realized that he interrupted Richie, clasping them on his lips. Richie gently took them away, while Eddie was shaking his head, trying to let his friend know that he was aware that he needed to be quiet and that good boys weren't supposed to be heard unless it was asked of them.  
  
"I love to hear you laugh, Eddie. Don't stop yourself from doing that, please. I… uh… I mean, it's not an order or what, I just… it's good to see you laugh, that's all."  
  
Eddie looked at him thoughtfully before nodding slowly. He didn't remember the last time he laughed, before he came here. Unless he counted nervous and inappropriate laughs, who tended to happen in the worst moments and usually meant that he was going to be punished. But a genuine laugh? No, didn't happen.  
  
Richie got up on his feet, grimacing comically:  
  
"Ouch, I have the back of an old grandpa. Twenty years old and I'm already sore just from being bent on the floor, can you imagine? I lack proper exercise. 'Should call the ladies, I bet they're missing me. Nothing better than a bit of bed gymnastic, right? If you get my drift..."  
  
Richie winked, and Eddie couldn't stop himself from groaning audibly. He got up from his spot, following Richie to the living room, trying to be as quiet as possible to not wake up Maggie. Obviously, Eddie understood what Richie meant. He wasn't as childish and ignorant as most people thought he was.  
  
It was a bit intimidating, thinking that Richie had all of these life experiences when Eddie never even kissed someone else. Who would kiss him anyway? He was a dumb mute scrawny guy, and the best he could ever hope for was to be a good boy. Certainly not someone to love, like in the movies. Eddie chased this thought away when Richie called out to him, smiling widely.  
  
He had installed on the table so many things that Eddie almost felt dizzy looking at it.  
  
"So, we have chocolate, coffee, orange juice, apple juice, what was left of the cookies, sticky buns, bacon, eggs, cereal… What do you want to eat, Eddie?"  
  
Eddie was left puzzled, in front of so many choices. What was the _right_ answer? Nothing looked particularly healthy or without gluten or stuff that he wasn't allowed to eat. He tilted his head to the side, thinking as much as he could about the whole deal. He had to be good. What were good boys supposed to eat on this table? His mom would know. He needed her. He couldn't decide if she wasn't there for him. He was unable to do so. He… He…  
  
Eddie stayed quiet, mouth agape, stuck in his train of thoughts. He jumped slightly when Richie caressed his cheek to bring him back to reality, wiping his own lips, tapping his white slate with his pen:  
  
"Hey, Eds? Breathe. There's no wrong answer here. I just don't really know what you like to eat or not for breakfast. We only took one together, after all. And it's been so long..."  
  
No wrong answer? Of course, there had to be a wrong answer! Just like yesterday, when he was asked to choose between watching TV on the couch or going to sleep in the bedroom! Everything was always right or wrong, and Eddie was too stupid to know what was okay and what was not. He needed his mom, and she wasn't there anymore, so Richie had to tell him what to do!  
  
Eddie let out a plaintive groan, writing frenetically on his white slate:  
  
_Don’t know. Don’t want to be punished. Bad. Have to be punished._  
  
Eddie was frustrated with his limited way to communicate, but he couldn't really do any better right now. He was lost and had trouble properly using his pen, and his thoughts weren't easy to transcribe into words. But Richie seemed to understand and whispered a sad "Eds...", pushing up his glasses to wipe his eyes. Eddie looked at him, waiting for his decision. Maybe he wanted him to be proactive? He hugged his plush tightly, before handing it to Richie, biting on his lips. Richie seemed offended at the mere thought of taking away his teddy bear, looking at him with an incredulous gaze:  
  
"What? No! I'm not going to take your plush! You haven't been bad, I'm not going to… to punish you! I'll never do that. You're not a child or a dog that I have to train, you're my friend. My best friend, Eds!"  
  
Eddie started to cry. He was too confused, his whole routine thrown out the window. He was supposed to be in therapy, and he wasn't. He had been bad, and he wasn’t being punished. His mother wasn't here. He had to make choices, and he didn't know what the right one was, and Richie didn't want to tell him! That wasn't fair. That wasn't fair.  
  
His mom would have known what to do. She would have told him right away, or she would have corrected him if he made a choice, and it wasn't the right one. She wasn't here, and it was his fault. It was his fucking fault! Eddie curled up on the floor, face hidden against the ground, sobbing and sniffling. He wanted his mom. He needed his mom. He was stupid, and he couldn’t do anything if she wasn’t here. Richie didn't understand.  
  
A hand in his hair, caressing him gently. Eddie stayed like that for too long, crying and crying and crying, unable to stop himself, to leave his uncomfortable posture. He was stuck. Stuck in his thoughts. Stuck in his memories. He kept seeing his mother die, and it was because of him. And now, he was all alone, and no one was willing to guide him, to help him to be a good boy. He hated that! He hated himself… He hated himself so much.  
  
His eyes were bloodshot when he finally raised his head, exhausted. He barely woke up, and now, he didn't have any energy left. Good job, Eddie. Had he regressed that much? He thought about his first therapy session and how bad and dirty he had been that day. If he had been a good boy, it wouldn't have happened.  
  
Did Richie knew how bad he had been and what he had done this day? His mom told him that she wouldn't inform him if he was nice, but Eddie had been bad other days. Maybe she did tell him. Eddie didn't know. His thoughts weren't really making any sense at the moment. He sat on the floor, leaving his previous posture, looking at Richie with a confused expression. What was he supposed to do?  
  
Richie helped him to get up on his feet, and that's when he realized that Maggie had woken up as well. Maybe he had been too noisy? It was probably his fault. He just arrived here, and he already ruined everything. He was the worst. He was the worst.  
  
He let Richie guide him to the table, sitting down when he invited him to do so. He immediately put his fingers in his mouth, sucking nervously on them, his stare seemingly vacant, unable to focus on a single thing. Richie said something to him, but he didn't understand. Words weren't making sense right now. Nothing made sense. He was tired. He was so tired.  
  
He felt like he was trapped in a deep, deep fog, blurring the world around him, making the sounds he was hearing either too loud or not enough, but certainly not understandable. He kept sucking noisily on his fingers, the only thing he managed to properly feel, in this body that seemed like a stranger to him.  
  
He barely heard his name and raised his head towards the origin of this sound. Maggie was handing him a buttered toast. Eddie took away his fingers from his mouth, and he parted his lips, waiting to be fed. Like his mother did when they were alone or his therapist did when he was a good boy. Was he a good boy? He didn't even know anymore.  
  
He closed his lips, but there was no food there. Eddie was getting more and more confused, and Richie and his mom weren't helping. Eddie couldn’t understand their words, them sounding like the adult characters in the Peanuts cartoon. He parted his lips once again, waiting for the buttered toast to be slipped in his mouth, for either Richie or his mom to caress him and to say to him that he was a good boy. But that didn't happen. Why? Was he doing something wrong?  
  
He tried to write on his slate, but his grip on his pen was all wrong, and he didn't even know what he wanted to say or how he should say it. He barely managed to draw a few lines here and there that weren't making any sense, whining, parting his lips, closing them again. He didn’t understand them. They didn't understand him. It was… It was…  
  
That was it. His breaking point. The realization that he was completely stuck right now. Maybe forever. He put his fingers back in his mouth, sucking on them intensively, and closed his eyes. No more light. No more Richie or Maggie. He couldn't see them being lost and sad and confused because of him. Because he was being _bad_.  
  
Eddie had no idea how long he stayed like that, away from everything. He must have fallen asleep because, when he opened his eyes, his head was on Richie's legs, who was lying on his bed and reading one of his comics. It must have been awhile, because Richie was dressed up and, he realized it soon, Eddie was as well. He also felt clean. Had they washed him?  
  
Eddie yawned, and Richie looked at him, putting his comic book away.  
  
"Hey, sleepyhead. You're feeling better?" 

Eddie nodded. He could understand what Richie was saying. So, yeah, definitely better. He was actually relieved that his words were making sense. He needed to understand Richie. Richie knew what to do. He needed him.  
  
"Sorry if I pushed you too much. I should have seen that you were too anxious. Next time, I'll reduce your options, okay? Let's take things slowly. No need to rush it."  
  
Eddie shook his head. He straightened up on the bed, leaving Richie's knees for a more appropriate position to talk with him. His white slate was right next to him, as always. Eddie still had trouble coming up with words, but, at least, he was able to write them down…  
  
_Don’t apologize. I was bad boy. Should be good boy. Punished._  
  
Eddie showed his slate to Richie, who sighed once again, before saying quickly when Eddie lowered his head:  
  
"I'm not… I'm not mad at you, Eddie, I swear! I promise, for real. I’m just… I’m just sad because your mom treated you so badly. You didn't deserve any of that, you know?"  
  
He didn't know. Eddie didn't know. He thought he did deserve it. That's what he told to Richie, shaking his head, writing quickly.  
  
_Stupid. Don't know how to be good. Mom knows. You know. Your parents know. Need you._  
  
"I… Eddie, you're not stupid."  
  
_Can't talk. Can't make a choice. Can’t dress up all alone. Can’t wash myself. Peed myself when I was bad. Mom told you._  
  
Richie read his words and buried his face in his hands for a few seconds.  
  
"Eddie… Did your mom tell you that? That she had told me… that?"  
  
Eddie nodded, writing after that:  
  
_Would told you if I was bad. I've been bad lots of times, so she told you. Stupid. Dirty. Disgusting._  
  
Eddie stopped writing, throwing his pen away and screaming, hitting his head harshly. Richie stopped him as best as he could. A knock on the door and Maggie was there, getting closer:  
  
"Can I help?"  
  
"It's fine, mom. Can you give me back the pen that's here, please? I'm handling it."  
  
Maggie did so, looking at them for a moment before closing the door on her son and his friend. Eddie stopped fighting after that, humming while Richie was hugging him and rocking him back and forth, slowly, rhythmically.  
  
"That's it, Eds. Breathe in. Breathe out. You're doing just fine."  
  
Eddie laid back against Richie, sucking on his fingers. As long as he wasn't biting on them, Richie didn't seem to be decided to stop him. Eddie concluded that it must be allowed, for some reason. He liked this new rule. It helped to calm himself down, sucking on his fingers.  
  
"You're not dirty. Or stupid. Or disgusting. Or bad. Or anything that your fuc… that your mom told you you were. She never told me anything, by the way. I didn't even know where you were or if you were okay, until I saw you on TV."  
  
Richie sighed, brushing Eddie's hair:  
  
"Listen, I don't give a shit if you can't talk, and we'll work together so that you'll be able to make choices on your own again, okay? And remember, you dressed up all alone, and you washed on your own yesterday. You didn't need my help. You never did."  
  
Eddie tried to write on his white slate, but it was hard to do that when one of his hands was stuck in his mouth. It felt too good to stop now. Richie hold his white slate for him and Eddie managed to write:  
  
_Don’t want me to talk?_  
  
Richie bit his bottom lip, taking his time before answering:  
  
"It's not that I don't want you to talk or what. I just think it's more important for you to feel happy, and if it means that you'll never audibly talk again, then I'm okay with that. I mean, if you want to talk again, I'll help you. I just think that you being happy should be our top priority.”  
  
Richie hugged Eddie tightly, just like Eddie loved it. Eddie sighed happily, and Richie smiled widely.  
  
"And besides, there are plenty of ways for you to talk. For now, there's your white slate. You could learn ASL. I'd learn it as well. And you know Stephen Hawking? He has this weird voice talking for him. I mean… This shit is probably expensive as fuck, but we could look into it, if you want.”  
  
Eddie didn't know what he wanted. For now, being in Richie's arms was enough. He liked being there. He felt safe. Protected. Taking away his fingers from his mouth, he nuzzled his face against Richie's arms and Richie laughed:  
  
"We could stay like this all day if you want. Not complaining, nope. 'Might be difficult to walk around like that, though. You'll be my arms, and I'll count on you for pretty much everything. Do you feel ready to wipe my butt or my dick? I’m warning you, it’s fucking huge! Your tiny itty bitty hands might not be enough to...”  
  
A flick on his forehead. Richie went silent, surprised, and Eddie, mortified by his reflex, immediately started to write an apology, already panicking, when his friend laughed. Laughed. Laughed. Laughed. And Eddie laughed too.  
  
God, he missed Richie too much. And he was still the same, even though he grew up so much. Still the same bad jokes. Still so nice with him. Now that they were together again, Eddie couldn't imagine his life without him. Without his best friend by his side...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that was the third chapter! Eddie and Richie both have a lot to work on, but they have each other and Richie's family, so they're not alone in this c:. And Mike will come back soon enough as well, just need a bit of time before letting him back in the story. 
> 
> And for those that are wondering, yeah, sometimes, I actually hear people talking like the adults in Peanuts and I'm struggling harshly to decipher their words. It's worse when I'm tired or in full shutdown. So frustrating.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter. Don't hesitate to comment and/or leave a kudo if you feel like it! I can't wait to read what you thought!
> 
> Have a nice day!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Couldn't wait any longer to write this chapter, so here it is! I hope you'll like it c:. 
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments and all, I'm so happy when I get to read your thoughts about my story :D. You're the best c:.
> 
> Richie's POV this time! I'm probably going to alternate between Eddie and Richie more often than in my previous story, I feel like it's better for the pacing of the story.
> 
> Here are the TW for this chapter:
> 
> TW for internalized homophobia  
> TW for r-word  
> TW for internalized ableism  
> TW for ableism  
> TW for infantilization  
> TW for self-harm
> 
> Good reading!

Richie was sure he still hadn't witnessed fully the damage Sonia Kaspbrak inflicted on her son. He was unable to comprehend how someone could just hurt Eddie like that. He was her son. Her precious son. Richie refused to believe that she could have done that out of love. It would tarnish the idea that he had of this feeling, that he could only dream of. Sonia Kaspbrak didn't love Eddie. She loved _possessing_ him. And she managed to have him under her control, so much that Eddie was absolutely sure that he couldn't live without her. 

Or, by default, without anyone to guide him and give him orders. A person that he trusted. Richie was so uneasy, knowing that's what Eddie was expecting of him. It was becoming clearer and clearer after every single one of their interactions. Eddie was obsessed with the idea of being "good" and he was actively relying on Richie for that, whether to make his choices for him or to punish him when he thought he did something bad.

Last night, Richie almost cried, thinking about the day's events. Eddie's desperate screams and cries for help. How he just broke down when Richie offered him to choose what he would eat for his breakfast, unable to get himself out of his black and white mentality, convinced that there must be a wrong answer to give and that he would be punished for it. How he willingly gave his plush to Richie, as if he would just take it away from Eddie because he was incredibly stressed out and anxious.

Richie felt nauseous at the thought that Eddie clearly wanted him to act as his mother did. To pat his head and call him a "Good boy" when he was following instructions and to discipline him when he wasn't, when he was being _bad._ Richie caressed Eddie's hair, who was still sleeping against him, breathing through his fingers shoved in his mouth. Thankfully, no biting this time. 

Richie hated to see Eddie hurt himself like that. And he hated the thought that Eddie was expecting this behavior from him. As if he could ever hurt his best friend willingly… Richie only wanted the best for him. But was he able to bring that to Eddie? Richie had his moments of doubt. 

He knew that Eddie was only back with them for three days now, that it was way too early for him to start to recover and that he should be happy that his friend was able to communicate and even flicked him on the forehead, although Richie clearly saw that he had been afraid by the possible consequences. Yet, Richie couldn't help but feel that he should be able to do more. To help him more.

He was at a loss with how much Eddie was relying on him. Was he supposed to let him follow him everywhere around? Should he ask him for more personal space? Richie didn't mind Eddie being so close to him all the time, on the contrary, but he didn't want to hinder his possible progress by not allowing Eddie to evolve without him around. Right now, Richie couldn't imagine leaving Eddie on his own. He was far too prone to hurt himself at the slightest negative thought, and he doubted Eddie would even dare to do something if Richie wasn't there to grant him the permission to do so.

Richie caressed Eddie's hair once again, hesitating before allowing himself to give him a quick kiss on the forehead. Eddie stirred in his sleep, but he didn't wake up. Richie wasn't surprised. Last night had been hard on him.

Eddie had a terrible nightmare, and Richie's hug hadn't been enough to appease him. He started to panic so much that he couldn't breathe properly anymore, and when he finally woke up from the nightmare, Richie had known almost immediately that Eddie wasn't truly back with him. That he was stuck somewhere in a memory, in his awful dream, far away from Richie, from his parents who had woken up, from the safety of his new home.

Eyes widened and hazy gaze, Eddie had raised his arm, as if someone was about to hit him, and backed off so much that he fell from the bed before Richie could stop him. He had crawled under the bed, whimpering and shaking, and screamed every time Richie or his parents tried to reach him. Richie had resigned himself to wait for him to come out of what looked like some kind of panicked trance, asking for his parents to go back to bed. 

He had thought that Eddie might feel less scared with fewer people involved, and he hadn't been wrong. Eddie allowed him to give him his plush and stayed under the bed, crying and whimpering, until he fell asleep once again. That's when Richie cautiously pulled him out and put him to bed, before hugging him tightly, hoping that he would be able to chase away another nightmare.

He hadn't slept much himself. Barely a few hours. And he woke up before Eddie, which was a relief in itself. He loathed the idea of opening his eyes and having once again his first vision of the day be a confused Eddie hitting himself and biting his fingers harshly.

Was that just his way of processing everything that happened to him, or did he self-harm so regularly that it just became an automatic answer to any possible contrariety? Richie hoped it was the first option, that it was something that would go away quickly once Eddie would be adjusted to his new life. But if it was the second, Richie knew that the therapist Eddie was going to see should work first on teaching him better coping mechanisms. He didn't want Eddie to risk a concussion or lasting damage from the harm he was inflicting continuously to himself. 

Honestly, if that allowed Eddie to get better, Richie would have gladly become his punching ball. He would take every slap, every punch, every bite that Eddie gave to himself to offer him some relief, to prevent him from hurting himself furthermore. But it wasn't a solution, and he knew that. Eddie would never dare to even think to do that to him, Richie was sure of it. He just… He just didn't want to see Eddie hurt himself ever again, and he didn't know how to help him.

Eddie yawned, opening his eyes, slipping his fingers out of his mouth. Richie, prepared for everything, took a tissue from his nightstand and carefully wiped Eddie's fingers, offering him a smile:

"Good morning, sleepyhead. You're feeling okay? Your white slate is right next to you, when you're ready to talk."

Eddie didn't seem ready right away. He wasn't a morning person, that was for sure. His eyelids were fluttering, and he kept yawning, clutching his plush in a clumsy hug. When he finally took his white slate, Richie could see that he had trouble writing properly, focusing on his task, and finally showing him his board:

_Good morning Richie. Ready to get up when you want._

Of course, only when Richie wanted. He wondered if Eddie would even leave the bed if he decided to stay there all day. Probably not. Fuck… It was so fucked up to think that he had this kind of power over his friend. That his mother hurt him so much that Eddie could only submit to the person he trusted the most and wait for them to give him instructions. The Eddie that left five years ago would have berated him for allowing them to sleep too much and would have given him a lecture on the importance of a proper sleep cycle…

Richie chuckled slightly at the thought, and Eddie looked at him, puzzled. Richie shrugged, getting up from the bed, stretching slowly:

"Don't worry, I just thought of something funny. You know how my brain is..."

After having finished stretching, Richie turned around only to see Eddie sitting on the bed, staring at him, holding his white slate and his plush. It didn't take Richie too long to guess that Eddie was waiting for his permission to get up. Richie bit his bottom lip, holding back a sigh that Eddie could misinterpret, telling him patiently:

"You… You can wake up and leave the bed whenever you want. My room too. You don't have to wait for me or what."

Eddie nodded, but he didn't move, still sitting on the mattress. Richie scratched his head, confused. Was he not clear enough? Or did Eddie wanted to stay in bed for now? As a precaution, he clarified, scared to see Eddie's reaction:

"That applies now too. You can leave the bed, Eddie."

As he feared it, Eddie immediately got up on his feet, walking to Richie, staying close to him. Eddie was waiting for orders and instructions, and Richie felt sick at the idea. He caressed his hair, dreading the answer that Eddie was going to give to his question:

"Did your mom wake you up in the morning? How did it happen?"

Richie was a bit scared that Eddie might freak out at the mention of his mother, but he didn't. Strangely, it seemed to calm him, Eddie taking his time to write as clearly as possible on his white slate, giving it proudly to Richie:

_Mommy wakes me up at 7 A.M. She tells me that I can leave the bed and that I've been a good boy because I didn't leave my room. She takes off my clothes, washes me, dresses me up and makes me eat my breakfast. Then, I have therapy with Mommy too, and I'm still a good boy. Mommy likes it when I'm a good boy._

Eddie had never written that much since he arrived, and Richie was surprised by how detailed he was. He usually skipped words, gave up on punctuation, and was pretty brief. Richie noticed that he had written everything in the present tense and thought about asking him about it, but he was afraid of his reaction. Was he still in denial about his mother? Richie felt like a coward, but he couldn't bring himself to ask Eddie about that and see him going through another meltdown.

Good boy. Good boy. Richie couldn't stop thinking about these two words. How proud Eddie was of this title, showing his white slate to Richie, rocking up and down on the ball of his feet. What was he supposed to tell him? Eddie was smiling, almost giggling, and Richie didn't want to take that away from him. But he couldn't encourage this…

"You don't have to be a good boy, you know? You… You're an adult, Eddie. I mean… I guess you're not old enough to buy booze yet, but you know… You're not a child anymore."

Eddie stopped his rocking, looking at Richie with a confused gaze. He wiped away his white slate, writing quickly on it:

_BAD?_

Richie wanted to bang his head against the nearest wall. He was not angry at Eddie, how could he? But fuck… how could he even hope to help him if his friend kept reasoning in terms of bad or good, of punishments and rewards?

"I don't mean that you're bad, Eddie. You don't have to be good or bad or anything. You just have to be you. You… You understand?"

Clearly, it wasn't the case. Richie didn't have the proper tools to break Eddie free from the patterns that his abuse forced upon him. He could only be there for him, waiting for the right moment to get him proper support. Maybe he should try to talk to him about it today? Eddie clearly expected to go back to his therapy sessions, but it was going to be very different from what he knew, and Richie didn't know how he would react to it.

"It's okay, Eddie. One thing at a time. What do you want to do? Bathroom or breakfast first?"

Richie realized that it was easier for Eddie to make a choice if he was presented with limited and clear options. This time, Eddie didn't hesitate too much. He immediately wrote _Bathroom,_ showing proudly to Richie his white slate. He was probably following his usual routine and felt he had given the "right" answer, because that's how it always happened for him. Richie bit his tongue, swallowing a sigh. With the lack of sleep, it was hard for him to have the patience that Eddie needed of him…

"Okay, let's go to the bathroom. In case you were wondering, breakfast would have been fine as well. There is no wrong answer."

Eddie stopped dead in his tracks, writing messily on his white slate:

_You're hungry? Can wait for shower. Sorry._

Eddie whined, underlining the word "sorry", and Richie wasn't able to hold back his sigh any longer. He hugged Eddie tightly against him, Eddie's arms going limp once Richie did this. His position allowed Richie to hide the tears that were about to run down his cheeks. He breathed shakily, trying to remain calm. He was the worst, clearly. He had no idea how to help Eddie and could only get him more anxious…

Once he felt calm enough, Richie released Eddie, caressing his hair:

"You said you wanted a shower, Eddie. You'll take a shower. And then, we'll go for breakfast. I think Mom's awake, so everything is probably ready for us. There is no wrong or right choice there."

Richie had no idea if Eddie even understood what he meant. Last time he said that, Eddie had curled up on the floor and sobbed for almost an entire hour. Right now, he just looked at him, staring with his big, brown eyes. Richie hated the fact that he couldn't help but think about how cute Eddie was. It wasn't the moment, and it was disgusting of him to have this kind of secret thought about his best friend. Eddie deserved better from him.

"We're doing it like last time? Me sitting on the floor, you doing your thing and asking me for help if necessary?"

Eddie shook his head, letting out a nervous whine. Pacing in the bathroom, he wrote on his white slate, showing it to Richie:

_Can't. Mom is helping me. Mom not here, so you. Can't do it. Stupid. Retarded. Broken._

Eddie let go of his slate and slapped his head, groaning audibly. Richie stopped him as best as he could, caressing his cheek, his hair, trying to bring him back from whatever negative thought was currently invading his mind:

"Eddie, you're not stupid. You're not retarded. You're not broken. And you can do it all alone, you did it yesterday, you remember?"

Eddie shook his head once again, grabbing his slate and his pen, and underlined the word "Can't" again and again, stomping the floor with his foot. Richie had no idea if Eddie didn't remember or if he just wanted it to be like it used to, when his mother helped him.

But Sonia Kaspbrak was dead, and Richie wasn't going to use her methods on Eddie. Eddie could clearly do it all alone, he proved it to Richie the day before, and he wasn't exhausted or too out of it to necessitate his help or his parents'. It wasn't just because he wanted Eddie to gain back his autonomy, but also because he couldn't trust his body's perverted reactions if he agreed to help him.

What if he had a fucking boner? Eddie would never forgive him. He would be disgusted by him and wouldn't have anyone else to rely on, as he did with Richie. Maybe it was awfully selfish of him, but Richie couldn't bring himself to do it and risk that to happen.

Trying to find the right tone and the right words, while Eddie was still insisting and getting angrier and angrier every second passing by, Richie took a deep breath.

"I'm not going to help you out of your clothes, and I'm not going to wash you, Eddie. You can do it, I know you can, you showed me yesterday that you're perfectly able to do it on your own. So, either you're doing it without my assistance, or we skip the shower for now, and we're going to eat our breakfast. What's your choice?"

Eddie looked highly frustrated by Richie's answer. He was fuming, throwing his slate on the floor, stomping the ground, even letting out a furious scream. For a moment, Richie was scared that Eddie might hurt himself in his anger, but he started to unbutton his shirt, his face red with rage. He was fumbling with the buttons, but Richie wasn't going to yield that easily.

"Breathe, Eddie. You can do it. I believe in you."

Eddie took a deep breath. Maybe Richie finally had the right words for him, because he took off his clothes without making a fuss, hopping in the shower. Richie averted his eyes, listening to Eddie, ready to get up if needed. Did he go too far? Richie bit his bottom lip, hiding his face in his hands. Unable to hold back the tears any longer, he started to cry.

He was so weak… Eddie deserved better than him. Why couldn't he be like his friends? Bill would have known immediately what to do, how to say those things to Eddie. Mike would have been perfect for Eddie, patient, and kind. Every single one of the Losers would have been better with Eddie than him. He was nothing more than a clown, a perverted clown with disgusting thoughts. Certainly not what Eddie needed after what he had experienced. Eddie looked up to him, waited for his support, his help. And Richie had nothing to give him, except his awful jokes.

Arms hugging him. Richie let out a sob, ashamed that Eddie had seen him like this, but he didn't find the courage to get up and be the strong presence that Eddie needed him to be. Instead, he let himself cry in his friend's hug, Eddie's head resting against his. Fuck, he was so pathetic… A part of him wanted to stay like this forever. Eddie hugging him, supporting him. Richie loved the feeling of his tiny arms surrounding him. He felt safe. Protected. But he was supposed to be the one helping him, not the other way around. Richie took a deep breath and slowly got up, adjusting his glasses and giving a reassuring smile to Eddie:

"I'm okay. Just tired. Don't worry about me, okay?"

Eddie pouted at his words, about to write something on his slate, but Richie managed to divert his attention, pointing at his tee-shirt:

"Still upside down, Eds. I'm starting to believe you're really doing it on purpose..."

Eddie looked down on his shirt, and Richie laughed:

"Kidding. You put it well this time."

Eddie audibly groaned and flicked Richie on the forehead, causing him to laugh even more. He kept pouting while Richie calmed himself, relieved that Eddie had forgotten what he was going to ask him. He didn't want to talk about him, and he didn't want Eddie to worry about him. Eddie needed to think about himself first and foremost. He had enough on his plate to not think about his friend on top of that…

When they reached the living room, everything was ready for them, and Maggie was finishing her breakfast, greeting Eddie and Richie happily. Eddie sat down at his place, the seat he always picked since he arrived three days ago, and looked at Richie, writing hesitantly on his slate:

_Don't need to ask?_

Richie smiled at his words. Eddie was learning. It would be complicated, and Richie had to be ready to repeat himself quite a lot, but Eddie was strong. He could make it.

"You're right, Eds. No need to ask. You can eat everything you want. Help yourself."

Richie did notice that Eddie took everything he was himself eating, but he didn't comment on it. They'll figure that out later. For now, Eddie was having his breakfast, didn't wait for anyone to feed him, and seemed to enjoy himself, which made Richie strangely proud. Maggie was smiling as well, drinking her coffee, asking Eddie:

"Did you sleep well after your nightmare, Eddie?"

Eddie lost his smile, looking at Maggie with a confused expression. He wrote a _Nightmare?_ quickly on his slate, visibly perplexed.

"Yes, you had a nightmare last night. You crawled under the bed." Maggie looked at him with a worried look. "You don't remember?"

Eddie shook his head. He was starting to get anxious when Richie took his hand in his, patting his head:

"Don't twist your panties over this, Eds. Probably best that you don't remember. Besides, thanks to you, I know now that there's not a creepy clown doll under the bed, so you basically saved me."

Eddie looked baffled for a few minutes, before remembering their sleepover and the movie they watched together. He clearly laughed, pointing his index finger in Richie's direction, before writing messily on his board:

_Cluck cluck cluck!_

Richie read his words, thought for a bit, before understanding what he meant and saying in a pretended offended voice:

"I'm not a chicken! This movie was stupid anyway… Almost ruined our sleepover with how boring it was."

Eddie couldn't stop laughing, coughing a bit. Richie largely preferred to see him like this than red with anger or drowning in his anxiety.

"Which movie, honey?" Maggie asked, grinning. "If I recall, you were only supposed to watch appropriate movies when you were that age..."

"Moooom, I'm not fifteen anymore! For fuck's sake..."

"This one goes in the swear jar."

"But we don't even have a swear jar!"

Richie threw his arms in the air, while Eddie was lost in a laughing fit. When he finally stopped, he was crying and had trouble breathing properly, but he kept smiling, and Richie could only appreciate this fact.

Finishing her breakfast, Maggie got up, suggesting to her son and Eddie:

"You could eat the rest of your breakfast in the garden. It's sunny, and you haven't left the house for three days."

Richie withdrew his approval, waiting to see Eddie's reaction. He clearly wanted to go outside, but he didn't dare to say a single thing. He was looking at him as well, and Richie knew that Eddie wanted to know what he thought, that he would agree with him no matter what he said. Clearly, Eddie wasn't ready to express his desire right now. Richie hold back another sigh, smiling weakly:

"Good idea, Mom. Do you want to go outside, Eddie?"

Eddie nodded, clapping his hands, and he and Richie moved in the garden, Maggie grabbing Eddie's plush and white slate for him. She sat on a deckchair, opening a book, while Eddie and Richie were eating together. Richie was in a talkative mood, and Eddie indulged him happily, reacting to his words with various noises or pausing his eating to answer him. Everything would have been perfect, if only a clicking sound and a flash of light hadn't ruined their moment…

Eddie hid his eyes, letting out a painful cry, while Richie got up, almost overturning the table in the process.

"What the fuck?"

Ignoring his mom's call, Richie ran towards the origin of this sound and flash, cursing when he realized from where it came from. A man was perched on a nearby tree, camera in hand, clearly targeting Eddie. He activated his camera again, causing Eddie to cry from the flashing light and the unexpected turn of events.

"You better leave right now, or I'm kicking your fucking ass!"

Seemingly unimpressed by Richie's threat, who was deadly serious, the man climbed down from the tree, approaching the Tozier's house with a broad smile on his face:

"Hello, Mr. Tozier! I'm working for the Derry Herald, I was hoping I could get an interview with Edward Kaspbrak."

"An interview? You're fucking kidding me? Get the fuck out, or I'm calling the cops!"

"Come on, Mr. Tozier! Derry's people deserve to know the truth, don't you think? Our poor little angel just came back to us, we should..."

Richie hit his fence brutally, causing the man to step back:

"What the fuck did you just say? How did you fucking called him?"

"I… uh… I mean..."

"Get the fuck out! I'm not going to say that again!"

The journalist was about to leave when he spotted something behind Richie. Richie turned his head, hoping that it was his mother, that she was about to tell the guy to fuck off, but it was Eddie. Eddie, who was sucking nervously on his fingers, looking at Richie and at the man, humming loudly. Richie didn't have the time to tell him to go back to the house. The journalist took this opportunity to take another picture of Eddie, still with his fucking flash on.

Eddie wailed, covering his face, planting his fingernails in his skin. Richie made him his priority, trying to get him up, to get him away from this asshole, but to no avail. Eddie was fighting his grip, screaming, unable to process his words and understand that he needed to go. Richie was awfully relieved when his mom ran to them, phone in her hand:

"I called the police. You get the fuck away from here, and you're not coming back. If I see a single fucking article about Eddie in your rag, you'll regret it!"

The man fled immediately, and Maggie knelt down right next to Eddie, shushing him and caressing his hair:

"It's over, honey. He's not coming back."

Richie hugged Eddie tightly, his intestines twisted with deep concern. He had forgotten that Eddie was sort of famous, that people knew his face and his name. He should have known, he should have made sure that they would be left alone and that no one would bother them. Eddie was clearly upset, having troubles to calm himself down. The more he thought about it, the less Richie was convinced that it was about this flashing light right in his face, even though it was clear that it hurt him…

"Let's go back inside, okay?"

He helped Eddie on his feet, leading him to the couch, his mom following them closely. She handled the police, while Richie stayed by Eddie's side. He was looking at the TV screen, but Richie could see that his mind was entirely somewhere else. He didn't answer when Richie said something to him and didn't react either when he got up to go to the bathroom, when he usually followed him everywhere he went. Eddie was out of it, sucking on his fingers, seemingly impervious to the world around him.

Richie got back to him, and Eddie hadn't moved. He was pliant in his hands when Richie invited him to have a more comfortable position, resting his head on his knees. Cursing this journalist who ruined everything, Richie caressed Eddie's hair gently, hoping to bring him out of whatever he was thinking about right now. He kinda doubted that the guy would pass on the opportunity to publish Eddie's picture.

Was he going to take the one where Eddie was looking at him, lost and confused, sucking on his fingers to soothe himself? Probably. Because Eddie would look different, _pitiful_ even. They had no idea how strong he was. How he kept working on himself to recover, to get better, and to finally be happy. They just… They just…

Maggie sat down next to Richie, patting his head in a comforting gesture. Richie sighed:

"He was doing so well. He was laughing. We were talking. If only this fucker didn't intervene… !"

"I should have thought about that." Maggie sighed as well. "Eddie… Eddie is not just one of Derry's people now. He has been on TV multiple times, there are books written about him, a documentary movie… and what happened on this talk show..."

Richie shivered at the memory. He did his best to bury it, to focus on Eddie's well being.

"We need to be more careful. If we're lucky enough, they'll forget about him soon enough."

"That's unfair. Eddie needs to be left in peace, why can't they let him have that? It's not fair!"

Richie looked at Eddie, who was still watching the TV. If only he could know what he was thinking about, if only he could reach out to him, protect him from everything this world had to throw at him… 

Not caring if his mother had something to say about it, Richie bent over, kissing Eddie's head gently:

"I'm sorry, Eddie."

Eddie didn't react, didn't even move. Richie sighed, looking at his mom, asking her with a tired voice:

"Mom? Can you give me the phone, please? I'm booking an appointment with a therapist. Eddie needs my help."

Maggie ruffled his hair, giving him the phone, whispering softly to his ear:

"Think about yourself, Richie. You matter as well."

Richie shrugged. He just wanted to be stronger, to be solid enough to help Eddie. And he clearly wasn't. If he hadn't been so preoccupied with his _disgusting_ thoughts, he would have been able to protect Eddie from what happened. He was absolutely sure of it, no matter how irrational it seemed.

Eddie needed him. And he'll be strong for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of the chapter! Well, Eddie has his ups and downs and Richie as well, but they had each other and Maggie as well. Went is working during this chapter, so he's not around, but he'll come back in the next chapters c:.  
> Seems like they'll have to deal with "paparazzi" as well as Eddie's other issues, he can't really catch a break unfortunately...  
> I hope you liked this chapter! Don't hesitate to comment and/or leave a kudo. I'm literally living for your comments, they're helping me a lot while I'm forced to stay isolated, without much to keep me busy.
> 
> Have a nice day! See you soon!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Here's the fifth chapter, I hope you'll like it! 
> 
> Thank you all for your comments, I'm so glad you're enjoying the story so far.
> 
> As always, here are the Trigger Warnings for this chapter:
> 
> TW for r-word  
> TW for internalized ableism  
> TW for self-harm  
> TW for infantilization
> 
> Thank you and good reading!

Eddie had learned to hate having his picture taken. It wasn’t for his own benefit, to allow him to keep a good memory of a moment that he cherished. No. His mom loved to show him off, especially for her book covers. They spent hours posing, Eddie forced to allow everyone to move him around, touching him as if he was nothing, but a doll between his mother’s hands. 

It was exhausting and no one really paid attention to him, until he had a meltdown, the flashing lights, the noise and all this physical contact taking their toll on him. And even then, they weren’t trying to help him, as much as they were ready to do anything to force him to calm down and to keep taking part in the photoshoot.

Eddie had started to dread these events so much that he would experience a full shutdown or meltdown as soon as he knew that he had to participate in one of these. But as long as the pictures were good, then it was all that mattered, right? Right…

People kept taking pictures of him without his consent. They also filmed him, so much that Eddie had kinda lost all perception of what was supposed to be his privacy, his intimacy. How could he, when people around him constantly disregarded his boundaries? He wasn’t even sure he had boundaries anymore…

The picture that the weird reporter took of him had triggered all of those memories, flooding Eddie’s mind, keeping him apart from the rest of the world. He kept thinking about those events and, more than that, about his mother. He spent the rest of the day deep in his thoughts, lost in his memories, barely reacting to any external stimuli.

His mommy was taking all the space in his brain and he just… allowed her to do so. As she always did in his life, taking so much space that Eddie barely had anything left for him. But he needed her. He needed her and as long as he could hear her voice and think about her and see her in his head, then that meant that she was _still_ there. That this… this dreadful nightmare never happened. That he wasn’t guilty of killing his own mother…

It was this thought that suddenly woke him up, pulling him out of his thoughts. For a short while, he had absolutely no idea where he was. Everything was dark and there was a weight on him, soft and heavy. He would have screamed if he was even able to breathe. Instead, Eddie hyperventilated, panicking, trying to understand where he was and what happened. 

First, he identified the nature of the weight on his body. His blanket and Richie’s arm, hugging him even in his sleep. Eddie turned his eyes towards him, moving slowly to not disturb him. Richie was sound asleep, lips slightly parted, hair messy. Eddie looked at him for a long moment, calming his anxiety thanks to Richie’s soothing presence, listening to his breathing, feeling the heat of his body on his skin. 

A glance at the alarm clock let Eddie know that it was actually past midnight, which explained how dark it was. At least, there was the moon, shining its light through Richie’s open slates, preventing Eddie to get more anxious than he already was. Taking a deep breath, he tried to remember what happened, to order his thoughts a bit. The last thing he remembered was this flashing light in his face, from this reporter that Richie was getting angry at… After that, nothing. Just little snippets here and there, that he couldn’t make sense of. 

Eddie scrunched up his nose at the thought. He didn’t even have the time to enjoy this moment with Richie outside… And he probably annoyed everyone, in his barely conscious state. It happened sometimes, when he was with his mother. When it was too much. He was somewhere, getting upset, and then he lost track of time and was somewhere else entirely. 

His mom often told him that he was making things hard on her and that he should be nicer. He always felt guilty when this kind of thing happened and this time was no exception. Richie told him that he wouldn’t wash him, but he didn’t feel dirty, so did that mean that he or his parents helped him? Eddie bit his bottom lip at the thought. He could do it all alone. Richie told him. He was probably disappointed in him. He wanted to apologize, but Richie was sleeping and Eddie didn’t dare to wake him up. 

Richie was doing a lot for him. Too much, probably. He needed to rest and Eddie wouldn’t take that away from him. He wasn’t ungrateful, even though his mommy told him that he was, sometimes. He couldn’t believe how nice he was, how nice they all were with him. He didn’t feel that he deserved it, that he earned it. All he ever did since he came back was bothering them. Richie didn’t leave the house in three days and Maggie spent her time cleaning up after him. Wentworth had to work and then he had to handle his mood swings and his screams and all. Eddie was the worst.

He chewed on his index finger, to stop himself from humming nervously. His thoughts were constantly bringing him back to his mother, leaving him confused and anxious. He didn’t want to trust his memories, to accept what happened. It was just a dream, right? A long, long dream… Maybe he was still at this talk show, his mind drifting while everyone else was talking about him. It made more sense than… than anything that happened. 

Richie coming to his rescue. Being there for him. Saying all of those things to his mother. And Eddie… Eddie pushing her… his mommy sweating, hurting, choking, because… because he…

Eddie bit harshly his finger and sucked on the blood that he could feel flowing in his mouth. He was dreaming. He was dreaming and it would all end soon enough. 

And yet, some part of him wanted all of this to be real. Being with Richie, with his parents, back to Derry. Far away from what his life had become. Eating what he wanted to eat. Watching TV with his friend. Hugging him. Sleeping with him and not all alone and scared. It was good. Too good to be real. 

Eddie was thirsty and his legs started to feel restless. He was getting agitated and pissed off and he didn’t want to wake Richie, even if it was all just a dream. Richie did tell him that he could leave the bed whenever he wanted, right? Discarding as much as he could the feeling that he was doing something _bad,_ Eddie slowly got up, doing his best to be as quiet as possible. He was relieved when he was finally up on his feet and Richie still asleep, his arm lying on Eddie’s side of the bed. 

Taking his plush with him, Eddie tiptoed out of the bedroom. He thought about going to the bathroom to drink, but it was too close to Richie’s room and it might wake him up. As cautiously as possible, Eddie went down the stairs, still chewing on his hurt finger. He was really, really thirsty, but more than that, he needed to do something. Anything. He didn’t like the thoughts that he was having and he wanted to forget them quickly. 

Eddie drank some water from the tap, sighing with relief. He put his finger under the cold water, watching the blood dripping with a strange fascination. It hurt, but Eddie didn’t mind it. He preferred when the pain was physical rather than mental. Easier to deal with. And it gave him something to focus on. Bouncing on his feet, Eddie kept his finger under the water until it stopped bleeding. 

Rather than turning off the water, Eddie impulsively put his head under it, welcoming the cold feeling with a whine, covering his mouth with his hand. He should wake up if he was really dreaming, right? He should… But he wasn’t waking up. He let the cold water run over his face, his hair, his skin, shivering, but unable to stop himself. He was about to wake up, right? His mom would be there, right? He hadn’t killed her. It was ridiculous. It was stupid. It…

“Honey, what are you doing?”

Eddie raised his head from the sink, gasping loudly. His hair was awfully wet, dripping everywhere. His eyes met Maggie’s, but he was unable to answer. He couldn’t talk and he didn’t bring his white slate with him. He parted his lips, trying to say something, anything, but to no avail. Maggie turned the tap off, caressing Eddie’s hair:

“You are soaked. Let me get a towel, you’re going to be sick if I’m not taking care of this.”

She left him, climbing up the stairs. Eddie stayed still, astonished. He thought that she was going to be angry or to tell him to go to bed. But she didn’t. Instead, she came back with a towel and Eddie’s white slate, inviting him to sit down. Hugging his plush, Eddie did so and pointed at the white board, mouthing an interrogative noise. Thankfully for him, Maggie seemed to understand what he was trying to communicate, putting the towel on his hair, gently massaging his scalp:

“Richie is sound asleep, Honey. Right now, I could scream in his room and he wouldn’t wake up. Well, it’s probably slightly exaggerated, but you know what I mean...”

Maggie was soft and gentle, so different from how his mother usually took care of him. It was… weird. But he liked it. She then wiped his face, offering him a smile:

“So, what was that about? Do you want to tell me?”

Eddie bit his bottom lip. He didn’t even know where to start. He took his white slate, tapping it with his pen, but unable to find the proper words to express his thoughts.

“Take your time, Eddie. In the meantime, I’ll get us some hot chocolate, how about that?”

Eddie smiled at the idea and rocked on his chair happily. He didn’t feel sleepy and he really liked the idea of sharing a hot beverage with Maggie. He missed her, during those five years… She had been so nice to him, just like Went, just like Richie. She got them two mugs, full of hot chocolate, and Eddie smelled the sweet perfume that came from it, rocking even more.

“Careful, Honey, you’re going to fall down. Richie did that so many times, I was almost tempted to glue the chair to the floor. You two are really something else...”

She chuckled lightly, taking her first sip. Eddie allowed himself to do so as well, humming happily at the delightful flavor. 

“Nothing better than a hot chocolate when you can’t sleep.”

Eddie could only agree, nodding to her words, enjoying the taste and this moment shared with Maggie. 

“So, Eddie, do you want to tell me what happened? You were somewhere else the entire day and I find you here in the middle of the night.” Maggie looked at him thoughtfully, smiling reassuringly to him when he started to show signs of worry. “I’m not angry, Honey. I’m just concerned. I care about you a lot and I’d like to help you. If you allow me to.”

She was so kind. So nice. Even if he didn’t wake up under the water stream, her actions could only confirm what he was thinking. It was all a dream, right? He needed to be sure. Focused on his slate, he wrote slowly, showing the object to Maggie:

_Need to wake up._

Maggie read his sentence, then looked at him, then read his sentence once again. 

“I’m not sure I understand, Honey. You’re awake.”

Eddie shook his head, wiping his slate and writing frenetically:

_Not awake. Dreaming. Mommy wakes me up. She always wakes me up._

Maggie put her mug down when she read his words. She got up from her chair and got close to him, whispering to his ear:

“Eddie, can I hug you? I think you need a hug.”

Eddie nodded and Maggie hugged him tightly, caressing his hair.

“Eddie… You’re not dreaming. This is real. Everything that happened… It’s real. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Eddie choked out a sob at Maggie’s words. He didn’t want to believe her. Because if she was telling the truth, his mother was dead and she was dead because of him. He whined, wiping his face in a quick movement, again and again, trying to soothe himself. He was going to wake up… It was all a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream. Just a…

“Honey, please… I… I’m sorry. We’re here for you. You’re not alone in this. We’re all here for you.”

Eddie shook his head once again. He didn’t deserve that from them. He was a monster. As best as he could, he wrote on his slate, his writing awfully messy:

_I killed mommy. Not real. Not real._

Maggie let out a gasp, shushing him when he started to sob:

“No, no, Eddie, it’s not your fault. You have to believe me.”

Eddie couldn’t believe her. He couldn’t. Because if everything was real, he was the one who touched his mother last. He rejected her and she died. He was responsible.

_I pushed her. She died. My fault._

Maggie shook her head, taking his hand in hers.

“Your mother was exhausting herself and her health had degraded considerably. She was everywhere every day and her physical condition just got worse day after day. She… She was probably going to die very soon, even if what happened at the show didn’t happen. It’s not your fault, Eddie. It’s not your fault.”

Eddie had a hard time processing what Maggie just said. His mother… His mother was dying? Every moment he spent with her, she could have died, just like that? Eddie didn’t know what he was feeling right now. Too many things at the same time. His brain was full and it was painful. Eddie slapped his head, trying to make this feeling go away, humming nervously. It wasn’t a dream. He didn’t kill her. But she died and the last thing he did to her was to push her away. But it wasn’t his fault. But maybe it was? He didn’t know anymore. Too much. Too much. Too much.

Maggie took his other hand in hers, gently moving his arms up and down, up and down, a slow rhythm that Eddie followed, still humming. The motion helped. He wasn’t forced to stay still, as his mom usually forced him to be when he started to get agitated. It was regular, gentle, soothing. He liked it.

“I’m going to let go of your hands, Eddie, okay? That way, you’ll be able to communicate and to drink your chocolate. It would be a shame to waste it, right?”

Maggie smiled, dropping his hands, sitting next to him. Eddie moved his fingers, inhaling deeply. He was feeling a bit better. Not the best, far from it, but he didn’t feel the need to hurt himself right now. He took his pen, writing down on his slate:

_I’m sorry. Don’t want to bother. Always annoying Richie._

Maggie read his words and chuckled:

“Trust me, Honey, you’re not annoying Richie. He’s so happy to have you here, you can’t imagine. These five years without you, they were hard on him. I don’t want to say too much, because it’s not my place and he’ll tell you when he wants to, but he really, really missed you. He never stopped missing you.”

Just as he promised him… Eddie felt his throat closing up. He wanted to cry, but he wasn’t sad. That was weird… He shook his head, chasing away this feeling, doing his best to not let the tears run down his cheeks.

_Miss him too. Always alone. No friends._

“You have friends now. Went and I, Richie, of course, and Mike. Mike is still around, you remember Mike?”

Eddie nodded, with an offended expression on his face that caused Maggie to laugh. As if he could forget one of his friends!

“He’s working at the local library now. He started a few weeks ago. He’ll be so happy to see you. He was such a good friend to Richie all of these years. He missed you too.”

Eddie thought about it for a while, bit his bottom lip, hesitating to write what he wanted to write. He was probably asking too much, but… but…

_Want to go see him._

He was ready for a “No” or even a punishment, because he should have known better than to ask. Eddie lowered his head, hugging his plush, biting its ear. He asked too much. He knew it.

“We’ll find a way. Right now, it’s a bit… complicated. Do you remember the journalist that came here, this morning?”

Eddie nodded. That was the last thing he remembered. This very unpleasant man, how angry Richie was at him and the flashing light, right in his eyes…

“I’m afraid other people might try to bother you when you’ll leave the house. Journalists, people being curious, unable to take care of their own business...”

Maggie scoffed angrily and Eddie curled up slightly, as if she was furious against him. She apologized, telling him that she wasn’t angry at him before adding:

“They might get too close, try to touch you, take pictures of you, tell you things that aren’t true and that might hurt you.”

Eddie shrugged. Nothing he wasn’t used to. Now that he knew that it could happen, he would be able to control himself. At least, he thought so. Maggie smiled at his answer, ruffling his hair:

“Richie was right, you’re really brave, Honey. But you don’t have to worry about it for now. Mike will be more than happy to come here. He spent so much time here these last years, he’s almost family. No, he’s family. Like you.”

She caressed his cheek while Eddie was looking at her, astonished. Family. He was family. They considered him a member of their family. It was… It was… He felt something wet on his cheek and let out a sob. Maggie wiped his tears, offering him a look full of love and affection:

“I’m really happy to have you here. We’re all happy to have you here. Don’t ever doubt that, Honey.”

While Eddie was calming down, they fell into a comfortable silence, drinking their hot chocolate. He never thought he would spend this moment with Maggie. But he didn’t regret it. He felt really good with her. She was kind, gentle, soft, so many things that he never thought a mother could ever be. Richie was so lucky to have her… Eddie felt guilty at his thought, pushing it away. Even if his mommy was dead, she was still his mommy. And he loved her. He loved her so much.

“Eddie?”

Eddie raised his head, focusing his attention on Maggie. She took a deep breath, before taking his left hand in hers, holding it lovingly.

“Richie is going to see a therapist real soon. He’d like to take you with him, to show you what will happen in his session. You’ll need to see someone too, we started to gather a few names that might be a good match for you. What do you think about that?”

The first thing that Eddie thought was that he was offended on Richie’s behalf. Offended that they might think that he needed to see a therapist. Richie was smart! He was not stupid like him! He didn’t need to be reminded of his colors, of where his nose was or anything like that! He took away his hand from Maggie, writing angrily on his slate:

_Richie doesn’t need therapy! Therapy for retards. Richie not stupid!_

He underlined his last sentence multiple times, split between disbelief and anger. Richie didn’t need that! He wasn’t like him! He was better than him. So much better than him!

“Eddie, please, I need you to calm down. Can you do that and listen to me, Honey? Please.”

Eddie was still pissed off, but he didn’t want to upset Maggie. Maybe he just misunderstood. Surely, they wouldn’t send Richie to therapy… She probably meant that he was going with him. Yeah, that was it.

“Thank you, Eddie. What you went through, it… it wasn’t a good therapy. It wasn’t there to help you, to give you a safe space to talk and to be listened to. It didn’t give you coping mechanisms to help you in your daily life. It wasn’t for your benefit. A real therapy session is supposed to help you. You’re an active part of this process, you’re the one deciding what you need and what you don’t want.”

Eddie shook his head. He went to therapy almost every day for five years, eight hours per day. He knew what it was like. He knew exactly how it went. And Richie didn’t need that. Eddie was stupid, so he needed it. But not Richie.

“I know that it’s not what you’re used to, but it’s the truth. That’s how good therapy is supposed to be. We… We all went to therapy at some point. I went there too.”

Eddie couldn’t believe it. Maggie in therapy? Maggie doing the things he did? How was it supposed to be good for her? To help her? That was… That was…

“Richie wanted to offer you to go to his first therapy session with him. So that you can see how it goes, how it’s going to happen for you as well. He’s scheduled next week. It’s your choice. You don’t have to feel obligated to go.”

Eddie couldn’t let Richie go there. Richie didn’t need therapy. He didn’t need people to touch him and to ask him to do stuff and to say to him that he was a good boy. They were going to hurt Richie and Eddie wasn’t going to let that happen! Eddie wrote on his slate, shaking his leg nervously:

_Going with him. Not leave him alone._

Maggie offered him a smile:

“Richie is going to be really happy. You can tell him yourself in the morning if you want.”

Eddie would tell him, of course. He was not letting him go through that all alone. Eddie remembered his first therapy session, how bad he had been and what happened. Richie didn’t need to suffer as he did, because he was already _enough._ He wasn’t like him. No, he wasn’t like him.

Maggie’s hands cupped his face and Eddie leaned into the touch, as he always did. He loved it, this particular feeling on his cheeks, this feeling full of affection, of love:

“You’re not stupid, Eddie. You’re not a… a retard or anything like that.”

She seemed to have trouble saying the word, her face clearly disgusted while she was articulating it.

“Those words, they’re bad. People told them to Richie, to Went and they told them to you too. But they’re wrong. You shouldn’t think any of this about you, Honey. You’re fine just the way you are. And look, after what happened, you’re talking to us, you’re laughing, you’re doing all of those things that so many people thought you couldn’t do. You’re strong, smart and brave, Eddie. I’m sorry that your mother made you think otherwise.”

Eddie wasn’t sure he could believe her, but he nodded, hugging his plush. He didn’t even know what to say. It was too much for him. He stayed silent, drinking his hot chocolate. He was starting to get sleepy, yawning, his head bobbing up and down. Maggie let him wash his own mug, before guiding him to the bathroom so that he could brush his teeth.

Kissing him on the forehead, she whispered gently to him:

“Good night, Eddie. Sleep well. I’m in the room next door if you need me.”

She left him and Eddie went back to his room. He tried to be quiet and discreet, but Richie stirred and started to wake up, mumbling in a sleepy voice:

“Y’okay, Eds?”

Eddie nodded, humming happily. He curled up against Richie, allowing his friend to hug him as he always did. The perfect hug, tight and gentle. It didn’t take them long to fall asleep again. This night, Eddie slept peacefully, safe from nightmares. Safe, in a loving and caring family...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really, really wanted to write another scene with Eddie and Maggie sharing a moment together and I finally did it! I hope you liked it. I liked writing it, it was soothing. I could almost imagine my mother saying this kind of thing to me. 
> 
> Anyway, I can't wait to read your comments! Thank you so much for still being there and allowing me to continue this story. The next chapter will be out real soon. I don't really know what will happen for now, maybe I'll involve Mike, maybe I'll keep him for later... We'll see about that!
> 
> Don't hesitate to comment, whether it's positive or negative, and/or leave kudos. Have a nice day!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Here's the sixth chapter of this fanfic! I hope you'll like it! I really love being able to write this fanfic and your supports really helps me to do so. Thank you so much for still being there after all this time!
> 
> Here are the trigger warnings:
> 
> TW for ableism  
> TW for internalized ableism  
> TW for infantilization  
> TW for internalized homophobia  
> TW for possessive thoughts
> 
> Thank you for your attention! Good reading!

Richie clearly didn’t expect to be assaulted in the morning. By Eddie Kaspbrak, nonetheless. When he opened his eyes, he was met with a white blurry sight, that almost made him scream out of surprise. Thankfully, he didn’t. Mumbling a “Wait a sec’, Eddie Spaghetti”, he took his glasses from his nightstand and put them on to decipher what Eddie wanted him to read so much.

_ Going to the therapist with you. Protect you. _

Richie raised an eyebrow, confused. He hadn’t talked to Eddie yet about a possible therapy session. And what was that about protecting him? Richie made the connection quite fast and held back a grimace.

Eddie thought that his own therapy sessions were usual and that Richie was going to suffer the same fate. Knowing that and still wanting to go with him to make sure that nothing bad would happen… Richie felt his heart warming up at the idea. He ruffled Eddie’s hair, smiling widely:

“Sure, Eds. I’m really happy you’re coming with me. I wanted to talk to you about that today. How did you know?”

Eddie took his time to write on his slate and Richie watched over him, with a fond look. He was so relieved that Eddie was out of his… whatever that was the day before. He seemed catatonic, unresponsive to any possible stimuli. They had to feed him, to wash him, to put him in his pajamas, and Eddie wasn’t moving, presenting a hazy gaze, far away from everything. Far away from Richie.

Richie had been exhausted and terrified and slept while hugging him, praying to find his Eddie back in the morning. And he was. Eddie showed him his slate, humming happily. He took the time to write his sentences properly, which made Richie think that his usual way of talking was more about him trying to be quick and it being more practical than Eddie having lost his vocabulary:

_ I was thirsty and I went downstairs to drink. Maggie found me there and we talked and drank a hot chocolate. It was really good! _

Richie chuckled a bit at Eddie’s enthusiasm. Of course, that’s what he would be focusing on. But his enthusiasm was quickly replaced by worry. Why was his mom downstairs? He hoped that she just heard Eddie and went to check out what was happening. That she hadn’t been tempted in the night and was about to succumb to her vices…

Richie shook his head, while Eddie looked puzzled by his sudden behavior. He needed to trust his mother. She had been working very hard on herself and it had been more than a year since her last relapse. She wouldn’t do that. He had to trust her. Besides, if she really was about to be tempted, she wouldn’t have stayed with Eddie to talk. She would have led him back to bed immediately like she sometimes did with himself when he was a kid.

Eddie poked Richie’s nose with his pen, before tapping on his white slate, with a proud face:

_ I didn’t ask to leave the bedroom. Remembered that it was allowed.  _

He was still thinking in terms of rules that he had to abide by, but Richie was proud nonetheless. He hated the idea that Eddie could have stayed in bed, thirsty as fuck, because he didn’t dare to leave the room. He gave him a thumbs up, smiling widely:

“You’re the best, Eddie. In no time, you’ll even take my cigs and start to smoke, you thug.”

Eddie looked horrified by his proposition. He shook his head, writing quickly:

_ Disgusting. Give cancer and tons of disease. Never smoking again. Ew! _

He pulled a disgusted face and Richie laughed, while Eddie added:

_ Not stealing. Bad. _

Richie shrugged. Honestly, he wouldn’t mind Eddie stealing his cigarettes from him. He knew that it would never happen, but at least, that would mean that Eddie was so out of his conditioning that he could actually do immoral things. Not that Richie should encourage this train of thoughts, he knew that very well.

“Yeah, let’s not turn you into a delinquent, right? My mom and my dad would kill me if that happened. They love you a lot, you know?”

Eddie nodded, to Richie’s surprise. They must have talked about that, Eddie and his mom, last night. He was glad to know that he could count on his parents to support Eddie. He didn’t know if he would have had the strength or the right words for his friend, last night…

Yawning and stretching, Richie got up from his bed and Eddie followed him, still smiling. He wrote a  _ Bathroom?  _ on his slate and Richie nodded:

“Sure, if that’s what you want. As usual?”

This time, Eddie didn’t ask Richie to help him. He invited him to sit down, before taking off his pajamas. Richie had to quickly avert his gaze, Eddie clearly not being modest. Richie knew very well that it was because his mother suppressed this part of himself, so much that he didn’t seem to mind a whole camera crew filming him while Mrs. K. was washing him. The idea made him nauseous and he hid his eyes behind his hands, raising up his glasses.

A part of him was telling him to look. To take a peek, just for a few seconds. Not like Eddie would be bothered by it, right? It wouldn’t hurt him, right? And yet, it would. Richie respected his friend too much to look at him being naked, like some kind of pervert. 

Eddie was in no state to give him his consent and Richie wasn’t about to ask him that. In fact, he was terrified that Eddie would just allow him because, well, Richie asked him. Not because he was interested in him, not because Eddie would like the idea of Richie watching him, no. Just because he was being asked and he thought he had to say yes. 

Richie sighed, putting his hands away from his face. He could hear the water run and smiled at Eddie’s little happy noises here and there. He remembered the documentary movie made about him, the narrator insisting that Eddie couldn’t communicate. But he communicated so much, if only people took the time to listen to him… 

Richie loved hearing him being so happy and content. He could only hope that every day would be like this, but he knew better than to really believe this naive thought. Eddie had a lot of traumatic stuff to work through and Richie could only try to be there for him, to prevent him to hurt himself too much and to offer him his arms and his body as a safe space. Eddie seemed to like his hugs. And Richie clearly loved hugging him, a thought that made him feel guilty.

But he didn’t have the time to dwell on it too much. Eddie was done, properly dressed, and was waiting for Richie to notice it. Richie gave him the thumbs up, getting up on his feet.

_ Breakfast? _

Richie nodded and Eddie flapped happily. Visibly, his dad already left for work and his mom was still sleeping, so it was up to him to set the table. He was about to do so, when Eddie made a weird noise, trying to get his attention.

_ Can I help? _

Richie thought about it for a moment, before nodding and asking him if he could be the one setting up the table for Maggie and them, while Richie was cooking some eggs and bacon. Eddie offering to help was a new thing, especially if it wasn’t about him trying to repair some of his “mistakes”. Richie could only encourage him to do so. 

He liked the idea that Eddie was trying to take some initiatives. It was probably hard for him to do so, used to follow what people told him to do without thinking much about it. It was an important step to take and Eddie was doing it all alone, without any impulse from them all. Richie was prouder than ever of his friend and how brave he constantly was. It might seem small, but it was huge and Richie was decided to encourage every single one of the steps that was driving Eddie away from his conditioning.

He was just about to serve Eddie when the bell rang. Eddie covered his ears and let out a discomforted noise. Richie patted his shoulder, asking him to stay put, while he was walking towards the door. On the way, he took a knife, in case he needed to look scary to whoever was coming to see them. He had clearly no intention of using it, but if this reporter was there, Richie was decided to scare him as much as he could…

Looking through the peephole, Richie sighed with relief, putting back the knife where it belonged. 

“It’s Mike!” Eddie, at his words, immediately relaxed and got up from his chair, joining him. Richie noted that he didn’t even have to ask him to do so and smiled at the thought, opening the door to Mike. Mike who was holding a big stack of newspapers and a heavy bag in his other hand. 

“Hi, Richie. Hi, Eddie.”

Richie was startled when Eddie jumped on Mike and hugged him, something he clearly didn’t expect to see. Mike dropped out what he was holding, a huge mess that none of them could care less about, hugging Eddie as well.

“I missed you, Eddie. I’m so glad to see you.”

Eddie hummed happily, before detaching himself from Mike. He stayed thoughtful for a little while, before being struck by an idea and running to the kitchen, adding a bowl and a plate for Mike. While he was doing that, Mike and Richie picked up the newspapers and the bag. Richie raised his eyebrow at the sight:

“What’s up with all of this shit? You’re the new delivery boy? You’re quite the sexy sight in the morning, I have to say.”

Mike let out a “Beep Beep Richie” while rolling his eyes with a smile. A smile that quickly faltered when he said sadly:

“I… uh… I saw what they printed this morning in the Derry Herald. I tried to buy as many as I could, but I don’t think I managed to buy them all. I’m sorry, Richie.”

Richie froze at Mike’s words and immediately took one of the newspapers, reading the page featuring Eddie’s picture, sucking on his fingers and giving a confused look to the camera.

_ DERRY’S LITTLE PRECIOUS ANGEL BACK: IRREMEDIABLY BROKEN? _

_ Edward Kaspbrak, Derry’s resident angel, is back in town after Sonia Kaspbrak’s death on live TV. Spotted in the Toziers’ house, he’s very different from the boy who used to attend Derry’s high school and seemed to have been irreparably damaged. _

_ Hoping to get an interview, our reporter was unable to reach out to him and the Tozier family refused to comment, displaying very aggressive behavior. We all have to wonder if our little angel is really in the best situation for his recovery… Displaying clear signs of abuse and trauma, Edward Kaspbrak seemed unable to understand his situation and started to hurt himself, a tragic behavior that his caretakers were clearly not able to control.  _

_ After interrogating the local medical staff in Derry, it seems clear that Edward Kaspbrak has not yet seen any doctor or therapist, in spite of living with Wentworth Tozier, our local dentist, which might hinder his future chances of recovery.  _

_ According to our reporter, who managed to saw him and take some pictures of him, Edward Kaspbrak displays a mental age well below his physical age and doesn’t seem to be able to do much on his own. Without a proper accompaniment, it seems certain that our precious angel’s state will only get worse day after day... _

_ We can only pray that Derry’s precious angel will be able to recover, in spite of his less than helpful circumstances. We’ll keep you updated on Edward Kaspbrak’s state as soon as possible. The article will stay anonymous, to allow our reporters to keep doing their work and protect them from the Toziers’ possible retaliation. _

The rest of the article featured different pictures that the reporter had taken. None of them showing Eddie enjoying himself while they had their breakfast outside. Richie clenched his hands on the rag that they dared to call a newspaper, his breathing becoming fast-paced and irregular.

“Richie, I...”

Richie punched the door, so brutally that he almost broke some of his bones in his hand. He heard Eddie screaming in the kitchen, but he was so angry and shaking so violently that he couldn’t trust himself right now to take care of him:

“Mike. I need five minutes. Take care of Eddie. Make sure he doesn’t hurt himself. ‘Likes tight hugs and being rocked slowly.”

Mike nodded and Richie stepped out of his house, while his mom was going down the stairs. He started to run, run, run, trying his best to not scream, to evacuate this awful surge of energy that was circulating in his veins and melted his thoughts in a mess of fury and anger. He only stopped when his legs were barely able to carry him. He came back to his house, feeling deeply ashamed of himself. He should have been able to control himself. Instead, he had scared Eddie and he wasn’t sure his friend would even want to see him right now…

Mike was sitting on the couch, Eddie on his knees, hugging him and rocking him slowly when Richie came back. Maggie was right next to them, caressing Eddie’s hair and whispering tender words to him. Eddie was still crying, but he didn’t seem to try to hurt himself. When he saw Richie, he moved to get away from Mike and wobbled to him on his frail legs, hugging Richie tightly. 

He whined pitifully, rubbing his face against Richie’s torso, shaking under his touch. Richie hugged him back, letting out a tired sigh:

“I’m sorry, Eds. It wasn’t against you. I got pissed off by something and I couldn’t control myself.”

He ruffled Eddie’s hair, offering him a weak smile:

“That’s why I need to see a therapist. Among other things. They’ll help me to deal with this kind of stuff.”

Eddie hugged him even tighter at his words and Richie couldn’t breathe for a few seconds. Realizing this fact, Eddie let him go, Richie fighting the urge to keep him against him, and wrote sloppily on his slate, so much that Richie had some difficulties to read what he had written:

_ Sorry sorry. Broke a plate. Didn’t mean to. Scared. Bad. _

Eddie was looking at him with his big brown eyes, waiting for Richie to say something, probably to berate him, to punish him. 

“That’s not your fault, Eds. I should have controlled myself. If I didn’t punch the door, you wouldn’t have been startled and you wouldn’t have dropped this plate. If anything, I’m the bad one here.”

Richie felt a slight pain on the back of his head and let out an exaggerated “ow!”, while his mother looked at him with a tender gaze:

“If there’s something bad here, Richie, it’s your self-esteem. I’ll flick you again if you still try to say something like that about you.”

“Not you too, Mom! Eddie and you are going to give me a concussion, flicking my head like that...”

Maggie and Eddie rolled their eyes at the same time. Mike put his hand on Richie’s shoulder, giving him a smile:

“Your mom is right. If anyone’s at fault here, it’s this reporter. I can’t believe he harassed you like that. If I saw him again, I’ll let him know what I think.”

Mike had always been the calmest of them all, but Richie knew better than to underestimate him. If he didn’t hate the guy so much, he would almost pity him…

“Anyway, instead of talking more about this rag, we should enjoy our breakfast.” Maggie invited them to sit down, wiping Eddie’s face and washing away his tears. “Mike, you’re staying with us?”

“How could I say no, Maggie?”

They all sat down, starting to eat. Richie’s attention was focused on Eddie, who seemed deep in his thoughts. He finally wrote on his slate, showing it to them:

_ I want to read it. _

Richie grimaced at the thought. He wasn’t about to refuse him something that he asked, but he wasn’t sure it was the best idea:

“Eds, what this guy has written is gross and filled with lies. You’re sure you want to read that?”

Eddie nodded, a determined expression on his face. Richie looked at his mother and Mike, before relenting and giving Eddie one of the newspapers Mike had managed to stock. Eddie read it very intently, letting out some furious noises here and there. When he finished his reading, he crumpled up the newspaper and threw it in the trash, sitting down and writing quickly:

_ Bullshit. Wrong about you all.  _

Visibly, Eddie was more preoccupied with what they had written on Richie and his parents than about himself. Richie bit his bottom lip at the thought.

“Thanks, Eds. But… uh… you know that what they’re saying about you is wrong too, right? About your mental age, you being damaged and all? It’s not true.”

Eddie shrugged and Richie felt his throat closing up. Eddie clearly believed that what had been written about him was true and Richie hated it. He hated it so much. He got up from his chair, kneeling down next to Eddie, taking his hand in his.

“They’re wrong. I’ll tell you that as much as needed until it’s definitely printed in your stubborn brain. You’re not damaged. You’re not broken. You don’t have the mental age of a child and you understand many, many things, maybe more than I do. We’re not your caretakers, we’re your family and we love you dearly.”

Richie took a deep breath, chasing away the tears that wanted to roll on his cheeks, before smiling cheekily to his friend:

“Besides, you, a precious angel? They clearly don’t know anything about you to write this kind of bullshit. How about we’re calling them and telling them that Derry’s tiny angry gremlin is back in tow…?”

Eddie interrupted him, flicking him on the forehead while pouting. Mike and Maggie laughed at Richie’s predicament, who went back to his chair, grumbling that he was clearly the one being mistreated, in this family. 

This breakfast with Mike was just perfect. Eddie was visibly enjoyed to have his friend back and couldn’t stop talking to him, forgetting to eat from times to times just to write on his slate and interact with him. Richie was almost jealous, witnessing how much Eddie seemed happy to see Mike. He knew that it was stupid of him, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to see Eddie smiling at him like he was smiling at Mike. Something deep inside of him wanted to jump to Eddie and kiss him, right in front of his friend, as if to show him that Eddie belonged to him.

Which was an awful thought to have. Eddie didn’t belong to anyone, but himself. And Richie had no right to do that to him. He chased this idea away, feeling nauseous and guilty, forcing a smile on his lips when Eddie looked at him, visibly worried. As if he could tell him what he was worried about…

After their breakfast, and Richie taking a shower after running as he did, they collectively decided to make a bonfire of the tons of newspaper that Mike brought to them, not before checking that the garden was journalist-free. One by one, the rags burned in the Toziers’ backyard. 

Richie could only smile at Eddie’s visible excitation in front of this big fire, probably something he had never seen in his life. He held his hand, keeping him from getting too close in his excitement and savoring the physical contact. Mike gave him a look and Richie avoided his gaze, his cheeks red. 

After all of this excitation and his previous outburst, Eddie was tired and quickly fell asleep in Richie’s lap, while they were all sitting in front of the TV. Maggie let them know that she was going to the supermarket and Mike and Richie found themselves alone, in a silence that Richie could only qualify as awkward.

He was the first one to break it, faking a cough and asking with a fake smile:

“So, uh, what was in the bag you brought with you?”

Mike smiled, opening the bag and showing his content to Richie:

“Books I brought from the library for Eddie. Comic books, adventure books, stuff that I thought he might find interesting.”

“That’s very nice of you. He’ll be ecstatic when he’ll wake up.”

Richie caressed Eddie’s hair, who mumbled something incoherent in his sleep, his words even less comprehensible thanks to the two fingers he had shoved in his mouth:

“He’s awfully tired. I guess it’s not surprising, after everything that happened. I’m sorry if you were hoping to talk to him a bit more.”

Mike shook his head, dismissing Richie’s concern:

“Don’t apologize. I’m glad I got to talk to him. To be honest, I was a bit scared that he might not remember me. Or that he might not want to see me at all.”

“He really likes you.”

They stayed silent for a moment, Richie taking care of Eddie and caressing his cheek when he started to bite down on his fingers. Eddie relaxed his jaw and went back to sucking on them in his sleep, to Richie’s relief. 

“How are you doing, Richie? You look tired.”

Richie shrugged:

“I’m fine. I don’t know why you all keep asking me that. Eddie’s the one who’s been hurt. You should not waste your time worrying about me.”

“I’m not wasting my time, Richie”. Mike sighed. “Remember that I told you to take the time to think about yourself, before all of this? I don’t think you’re really following my advice, to be honest.”

Richie rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated grunt. Eddie mumbled something and, with a quieter voice to not wake him up, Richie whispered:

“I’m doing just fine. I’m here for Eddie and that’s all I ever wanted. I’m fine.”

“Did you tell him about your feelings?”

Richie had a horrified expression at Mike’s words and immediately put his hands on his mouth, shushing him:

“Shut up! What if he heard you?”

Mike took away his hands gently, offering him a sad smile:

“So, I guess that answered my question.”

“I’m not going to tell him! He has enough on his plate. Besides...”

Richie looked at Eddie and sighed, caressing his hair:

“In his current state, he could say yes and return my feelings, just because he thinks that it would please me. Doesn’t matter what he really wants or anything.”

“That’s fucked up, Richie.”

“I know...”

Richie raised his glasses and wiped his eyes, mumbling desperately:

“His mom fucked him up so much. I’m not sure I’ve even seen the worst of it for now. She took so much away from him, I… I...”

Mike put his hand on his shoulder and that was enough for Richie to start bawling. He spent the last few days crying and trying to prevent himself from crying. Mike was right, he was not fine. This whole situation was too much and he was falling apart. How could he hope to help Eddie, when he could barely stand up on his own?

“I’m here, you know. And the other Losers too, even if they’re far away. I’m sure they’d be ready to drop everything to come here if needed. You don’t have to bear this all alone.”

“I’m not… Eddie is not a weight I have to bear and… and I’m not his caretaker or anything like that. I’m his best friend! I...”

Mike pressed his shoulder and Richie took a deep breath:

“I know, Richie. I know. Eddie is not a weight, but this whole situation is heavy and you can’t keep ignoring your own feelings to support him. I was with you during those five years. I saw how distraught you were. You went through something that you can’t just ignore because you think it’s less important than what Eddie’s going through. Eddie needs you, yes, but you need him as well. And you need us too. You can’t keep pushing us away, Richie.”

Richie wanted to joke. To say something that would make Mike think that he was just fine, that there was no need to worry about him. But he couldn’t find anything to retort, still crying as quietly as he could. Mike hugged him briefly, before giving him an encouraging smile:

“I’m glad you’re going back to therapy. You seemed pretty decided to never see a therapist again after Eddie’s departure.”

Richie rolled his eyes:

“Of course, I was. The school therapist tried to convince me that I was sick because of how I felt. And honestly, I think he did. Most of the time, I feel disgusting.”

“You’re not, Richie. You can be a pain in the ass sometimes, but your feelings don’t make you a disgusting person. It’s not something that you chose and it’s not a disease. That’s just how things are and, you know, I’ll support you whatever you decide to do.”

Richie offered him a smile, wiping his tears. He was so lucky to have Mike. He felt guilty at his previous thoughts, at how jealous he had briefly been. Mike deserved better from him.

“You’re the best, Mikey Mike. I hope you know that.”

“Don’t flatter me, Richie. You still have to return the book that you borrowed three months ago to the library. Mrs. Carson kept pestering me with this the day she left me in charge of the library.”

“Ugh.” Richie shook his head, giving a pleading look to Mike. “But I’m going to have a fiiine… Can’t you just erase it and pretend that I returned it in time?”

“Sorry, Richie, no can do. The longer you wait, the bigger the fine is going to be, you know?”

“Okay, okay, I’ll bring back this stupid book. It wasn’t even good. I’ll take Eddie with me. If I can find a way to leave the house with him in peace. Can you believe that this fucker climbed on a tree to take pictures of Eddie? I hope he’ll fall and break his neck next time. That’s all he deserves.”

Mike chuckled at Richie’s words. He stayed silent for a little while, before sharing his thoughts:

“You know, when Eddie’ll start to feel better, I was thinking about offering him a job at the library. I’m working all alone and I’ve been told that I could hire an assistant for a few hours per week.”

Richie, taken aback by Mike’s offer, looked at him silently, mouth agape. He needed a few moments to finally be able to talk again.

“That’s… That’s super fucking nice of you, Mike. I...”

Richie bit his bottom lip, hesitating:

“I just… I was thinking about asking my manager if it was possible to hire him. I could keep an eye on Eddie and...”

“Richie.”

Mike put his hand on his shoulder, once again. His gaze was split between seriousness and concern, while he was saying in a firm tone:

“You need to let him have his own space. Eddie’s my friend. I’m not going to ask too much of him and I can deal with his issues. But you both need to have time for yourself, apart from each other.”

“But he needs me! I...”

Mike shook his head at his words and Richie felt his throat closing up once again:

“He does need you, but not like that. You’re being overbearing, Richie. I’m sure he’ll be happy if he knows that you can trust him to work with me. Besides, it’s not something that has to happen immediately. I’m guessing Eddie’s going to see a therapist as well?”

Richie nodded. Mike was right. He was starting to get overbearing and he couldn’t let himself do that. Eddie needed to gain back his independence, his autonomy, and if Richie was always with him wherever he was, it wouldn’t help. If Eddie was able to work and to make his own choices without Richie to guide him, then it would be for the best. 

Still, there was this little voice inside of his head that was telling him to keep Eddie close. That the world was dangerous and that he needed him. Richie really needed to shut up this voice. He wasn’t going to turn into Sonia Kaspbrak 2.0, no, certainly not.

“We’ll wait for his therapist's approval. Oh, and of course, for Eddie’s as well. If he’s not interested, we won’t force him. That’s not how it works.”

Richie was glad that Mike thought about getting Eddie’s consent. So many people just thought that Eddie couldn’t decide a single thing on his own… Richie hated that. He wouldn’t become one of them. No, he wouldn’t. 

Eddie started to stir up, right as Maggie came back from her shopping. They all helped her, chatting happily. Richie helped Eddie, who was still sleepy and a bit clumsy, making sure that he wouldn’t drop anything. Was he too protective? He just wanted to prevent him from having a meltdown. 

No, it was more than just him helping him when Eddie was too sleepy or out of it. Mike was right. He kept thinking about Eddie. He didn’t leave the house since he came back and he hadn’t even returned to work yet. He should probably give them a call, by the way… If he wasn’t fired, after having missed so many of his workdays…

After they finished, Richie called his boss, anxious at the idea of losing his job. He kinda liked it, after all, and he could provide for Eddie with the pay. Even though Eddie’s inheritance was big enough to allow him to be the one to provide for Richie… Not that Richie would let him do that. 

Besides, Eddie had better things to think about than his money. Maggie and Went were taking care of it, making sure that it would only be used for Eddie’s benefit, until he’ll be ready to manage all of it on his own.

Richie ended the call with mixed feelings. His boss told him that he could stay away as long as needed and while it was nice of him to offer that, Richie felt clear pity in his words, in his tone of voice. Pity because he was there for Eddie. Because his boss read this fucking article and believed most of it. Because he thought that Richie was Eddie’s caretaker. 

He hated that. But he needed his job, so he just thanked his boss and ended the conversation as soon as possible. How could they believe this bullshit? Eddie was so much more than what this rag was telling about him! 

A hand on his shoulder. Eddie was looking at him, visibly worried. Richie thought about joking and changing the subject, but he saw Mike’s stare on him and, sighing, told Eddie, ruffling his hair:

“Nothing bad, Eddie. Just my boss who believes the bullshit in the Derry Herald about you. But that means I get free vacations and I can spend more time with you for now!”

Eddie flapped his hands happily at the idea and, bouncing on his feet, hugged Richie with affection. Richie felt his heartbeat becoming even faster when Eddie started to nuzzle his face into his torso. Fuck… He really, really loved him. And he definitely couldn’t tell him. Nope. Never.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love writing Richie now. I wasn't sure at first, because I was more at ease with Eddie, but I'm starting to get the hang of it c:. And Mike is back! I'm so happy I can write him more, I really love his character. The best friend ever :D.
> 
> Richie's starting to realize that he can't just keep everything for himself and hope for the best. He also has to deal with his feelings and the jealousy that starts to poke a little and he's definitely not the best at it, for now. We'll see how it's going to evolve!
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter. Don't hesitate to comment, I love to read what you thought and what you think is going to happen in this story. Have a nice day and see you soon!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I couldn't sleep, so here's the seventh chapter, I hope you like it! Thank you for your comments and all! I haven't seen some of my usual commenters yet on the last chapter, so I hope you're all okay in those difficult times c:. Take care! 
> 
> Here are the TW for this chapter:
> 
> TW for internalized ableism  
> TW for mention of ableism  
> TW for internalized homophobia  
> TW for self-harm
> 
> Good reading!

Eddie would lie if he said that he wasn’t nervous. In some way, he lived in a constant state of anxiety most of his life, but still. He was stressed out and it was not for himself this time. It was for Richie. Richie who was going to meet his therapist today, as Maggie told Eddie a few days ago.

They fell into this sort of comfortable routine together, days that seemed to be basically the same, following a pattern that reassured Eddie.

He kinda missed how tightly his days were usually planned, when he was still with his mother, but the fact that everyone was so nice to him and that he could take his time to learn and relearn what he forgot, without any kind of pressure, was definitely a plus. With the support of Richie, Maggie, and Went, Eddie was discovering what a normal life was, away from the cameras, the abuse, the meds that he didn’t need.

He liked watching movies on TV with his family. They actually asked him what he wanted to see and, even though he still had a hard time answering, it felt so good to feel included. To have people ask for his opinion.

Once, he suggested shyly the movie Richie and he were supposed to watch, the night of their sleepover, and that he never got the time to actually see. Instead of dismissing his idea, as he thought they would, Richie and his parents agreed and they all watched “The Goonies” together. It was such a fun evening! Eddie was comfortably installed against Richie, playing with his fingers, engrossed in the movie. Richie’s free hand was caressing his hair, a touch that Eddie quickly learned to love.

With the people he cared so much about, Eddie enjoyed the movie, having so much fun that he could barely control the noises that were coming out of his throat and the excited gestures he kept having. He started to feel pretty guilty about it at some point, afraid that he might be bothering the Toziers with how loud he was. But they let him know that it was okay and later that night, Richie and he talked about the matter.

Eddie liked their discussions. Richie always let him the time to answer, no matter how long it was taking him to think about what he wanted to say and to transcribe it. He was not patronizing him as Eddie was so used to, and while it was quite disconcerting, it was also really gratifying. Eddie never felt like an adult in his life and Richie and his folks offered him that opportunity.

That night, Richie told him that he understood that Eddie was experiencing a lot of things for the first time, good and bad things. That he needed to process his feelings before he could learn to express them less intently. And that he liked hearing him being happy, all the ways Eddie was expressing his positive emotions. That it was okay. Fine.

His mother never told Eddie that he was fine the way he was. Probably because he was never enough. Because being a good boy was not a constant state of being, but something that Eddie had to pursue and so easy to take away from him. He always felt so pressured to be the son that his mommy would love that he kinda forgot who he was supposed to be, outside of all this conditioning. Now was the time to learn to be someone. With Richie and everyone else.

If only those good moments were all that Eddie ever experienced… There were also bad times. Where he forgot the progress he was starting to make. Where he kept seeing his mother die and wasn’t able to talk about it. Where he would start to get mean and bratty and everything he hated, because things weren’t happening the way they were supposed to. And still, Richie and his parents were there for him. They supported him. They forgave him. Eddie wasn’t entirely sure he deserved it…

But that was not what mattered right now. Richie was what’s important. Eddie promised to be there to protect him and he would. Eddie watched over his friend during the whole breakfast, already in the mindset to preserve him from any negative feeling he could have or any bad thing that might happen to him. They kept telling him that Richie’s therapy session wouldn’t be like what he had known so far, but Eddie was skeptical.

He would protect Richie, if his therapist tried to use on him the tactics they previously used on Eddie. He wouldn’t let Richie cry and beg to be allowed to move, after so many hours sitting and having to repeat the same exercises again and again. No one would make Richie suffer as Eddie suffered. Not on his watch.

That’s what he kept telling himself, fumbling with his shoelaces, getting irrationally angry at his clumsy fingers. How was he supposed to protect Richie if he couldn’t even tie his own shoes? Ugh… Eddie knew that he couldn’t help it and that he needed to calm himself down to be able to do it, but he was unable to do so for the moment. Richie sat next to him while Eddie kept failing the same knot, again and again, whining furiously:

“Relax, Eddie Spaghetti. I know you can do it.”

The Eddie he used to be would have probably told Richie to shove his stupid nickname in his ass, but the Eddie that he was now wouldn’t even dare to write that. Instead, he grunted and paused his action, wiping his face with his hands in a nervous gesture.

It was frustrating, having to rely constantly on his white slate to talk. Eddie forgot how much he used to speak, when people actually listened to him. It didn’t bother him when he knew that it was useless for him to even try to express himself, because his mom would talk for him, because no one thought he had anything valuable to say.

But now that Richie and his parents and Mike were listening to him, Eddie had to take the time to write and it wasn’t fast enough to keep up with what his brain wanted to say. Plus, he couldn’t talk and do something else at the same time. He had to stop everything to write and it was so slow! Eddie couldn’t help, but feel stupid when he saw what he was able to write down, compared to the thoughts that were crossing his mind and that he was unable to properly translate. It was so, so annoying!

A hand on his head. Richie ruffled his hair, winking at him, smiling in the way Eddie liked to see him smile, widely and naturally:

“Deep breaths, Eddie. We’re not late, you can take the time you need to do that.”

A part of Eddie wanted to beg Richie to help him. To do it for him. But right now, Eddie knew better than to just listen to this instinct. He took a deep breath, just like Richie said, and focused on his task. When he actually managed to tie his shoes, Eddie squealed happily and hugged Richie. It felt so good when he was finally able to do something! Something his mom thought he was unable to accomplish… Something he forgot that he could do on his own…

“You didn’t forget anything, Eds?”

Eddie thought about it for a while. He had his white slate and his pen. He had his plush, because he was nowhere near ready to leave the house without his comfort object, which was probably something he’ll have to work on later. He was properly dressed up and his teeth were brushed. He gave a thumbs-up to Richie, who chuckled at the sight.

“Mom, we’re leaving! See you soon!”

Eddie emitted a noise that he hoped would look like a “See ya!”, which was probably not the case, unfortunately. Sometimes, he was able to produce sounds that vaguely evoked actual words, but it was quite rare and people still tended to not understand him. Richie did tell him that he was okay with him not talking, so Eddie tried to not focus too much on it and to concentrate on the rest. Getting better. Being strong enough to protect Richie against his therapist. That was his priority right now.

It was the first time Eddie was leaving the Toziers’ house since he arrived. He actually had a hard time making the first step and Richie had to hold his hand, guiding him to the car. Eddie sat down, hugging his plush, biting down on his ear. He waited for Richie to turn on the engine, but Richie kept looking at him and he couldn’t understand why. A few minutes passed when Richie cleared his throat and told him, smiling awkwardly:

“Your seat-belt, Eds.”

Eddie let out a surprised “Oh”, lowering his gaze. He was so used to his mother doing it for him that he didn’t even think about it. It was weird, doing it all alone. He had the feeling that he was doing something  _ bad  _ and, after fastening his seat-belt, he started to bite nervously on his fingers, humming under his breath. 

“You’re okay, Eddie. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Richie caressed his cheek and Eddie instantly relaxed his jaw, sucking on his fingers instead of hurting himself. He liked feeling his friend’s fingers on his skin. Richie always seemed to know how to touch him, just the right amount of pressure for the right amount of time.

“You don’t have to come if it makes you too anxious, Eds. Really, I appreciate the thought, but...”

Eddie shook his head, slipping his fingers from his mouth to audibly voice how opposed he was to the idea of just letting him go there on his own. Wiping his hand with a tissue, Eddie wrote quickly on his white slate, shoving it into Richie’s face:

_ PROTECT YOU _

Richie put his index finger on the top of the white slate, pushing it down so that he could see Eddie’s face. Eddie was determined and nothing would change his mind. Richie had been there for him in so many ways since he came back, it was only fair to return him the favor. Eddie would fight anyone who wanted to hurt his friend!

“Okay, okay, I get it, Eds. For the hundredth time, I’m going to tell you that you don’t have to protect me from anything. But I have to admit, I like you being my knight in shining armor. Remind me of good memories.”

Richie chuckled and finally turned on the engine. And there it was. They were leaving the house, for a trip that would almost last an entire hour. Eddie was vibrating with excitement and anxiety at the same time, unable to stay still on his seat. A part of him was still worried about Richie, but another part was very, very happy to be on the road with him.

Richie was a safe driver, something that Eddie clearly appreciated. He observed him with curiosity, envious of how it seemed easy for him to drive a car when Eddie was still having trouble with tying his shoelaces. Would he be able to drive one day? He wanted to ask Richie to teach him, but he didn’t dare to do it. Eddie would probably never manage to do that. Driving was for smart people, people who didn’t need help for things that Eddie was barely able to do all alone. It was not for stupid people, like he was.

He didn’t realize right away that he had started to hum nervously once again. Richie caught his attention gently, gesturing towards the cassette player:

“Do you mind if I put some music on?”

Eddie raised his eyebrow at his question, confused that he would even take the time to ask him. He shrugged, unable to determine if it would be okay for him or not. David Bowie’s voice started to fill the car and Eddie flapped his hands, recognizing his music, smiling widely. It’s been so long since he listened to his music with Richie! Richie started to sing, something that Eddie really wanted to listen to. He put his hands on his mouth to prevent himself from squealing or humming too loudly, agitating his legs.

His singing was a bit off, but Eddie still liked hearing it. Richie was beaming and Eddie had never been so happy than at this moment, watching his friend who was clearly enjoying what he was doing. Eddie didn’t even take the time to look through the window, too busy staring at Richie and listening to him.

Eddie was a bit tired when they finally arrived, but he quickly shook his head to chase away the feeling. He had to be focused! Richie needed him! Following him out of the car, Eddie hugged his plush against his torso with one arm, using his free hand to grip Richie’s sleeve. He wasn’t leaving his side. He was staying with him, no matter what.

They weren’t alone in the waiting room. People stared at Eddie and started to whisper things and he suddenly felt awfully nervous, even more than before. He didn’t know if they recognized him or if they just thought that he was weird, but they were looking at him and, for some reason, he actually cared now… His cheeks red, he whined, shaking his legs. Richie shushed him softly, telling him that everything was okay, glaring at those who were looking at them too intently.

Soon enough, they stopped paying attention and Eddie was able to relax a bit. He didn’t know why it made him so anxious… He was used to people staring and calling him names and all. Why was it bothering him, now? Eddie wasn’t sure he liked this feeling. It was easier when he could just ignore it, away from everything else.

Richie’s name was called and Eddie got up when he did, following him closely. Taking a deep breath, he entered the therapist’s office, clearly ready to fight. As soon as the door was closed, Eddie instantly clutched Richie’s arm, offering a suspicious glare to the therapist, a man that was almost as tall as his friend.

He could crush Eddie if he wanted to, but Eddie didn’t care. For Richie, he could fight a flock of dragons if needed! The man offered a smile to Eddie, saluting them both, offering them to sit down on a couch. It was… comfy. Way more comfortable than the chair he had to sit on for hours, doing his exercises again and again. Eddie was still gripping Richie’s arm, decided to prove to his friend that he was there for him and that he wouldn’t leave him behind, no matter what.

“You can relax, Eddie. He’s not going to eat me, I swear. Right, Doc?”

The man smiled peacefully. He was sitting on an armchair in front of them, too far from him to touch Richie and try to keep his hands quiet. But he could still get up and throw himself at him if necessary… Eddie needed to stay on his guard.

“We’re just here to talk, Mr. Kaspbrak. If I ever say or do a single thing that you think might potentially hurt Richard, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

Richie grimaced, while Eddie looked at the man, surprised that he was actually talking to him and offering him to give his input:

“You could start by calling me Richie, Doc. Richard is so fucking formal, I feel like I’m back in school. And, I mean, never again, you know?”

“Do you want to talk about that, Richie?”

And Richie did. Eddie listened to him talking about school, about the moments they shared together. About Bowers and his goons and how he still felt nervous when he was crossing their path. About their last fight, which resulted in Richie breaking his phone on Henry Bowers’s nose. They just… talked.

Here and there, the therapist, that introduced himself as Dr. Norton, asked a few questions, made a remark, offered some hindsight. It seemed easy to talk to him. Richie didn’t hesitate to do so, in fact. He talked about his hyperactivity, something that Eddie still had some troubles to properly grasp, how it influenced his school years, how he was dealing with it now.

The man never tried to touch Richie. He didn’t tell him that what he was doing or saying was bad, that he wasn’t making enough eye contact, that he should stop shaking his legs… That wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. Eddie couldn’t comprehend what he was witnessing. When would Dr. Norton start to ask Richie to touch various parts of his body? Why wasn’t he giving him treats? Why wasn’t he saying to him that he was a good boy because, clearly, Richie was acing his therapy session?

Eddie was growing warier and warier, tensing his grip on Richie’s arm, agitating his legs, waiting, waiting for the moment everything would go back to how it was supposed to happen. To why Eddie was here to protect Richie. But it never did. They talked and they talked and they talked, smiling and all.

Dr. Norton always called Richie as he asked him to and never treated him like a child. He stayed on his seat and never tried to grab him or anything like that. He wasn’t ignoring Eddie, but he was mostly focusing on Richie, his patient. At the end of the session, he guided Richie into a meditating exercise, and Richie visibly relaxed, unclenching his tensed muscles. Eddie could clearly feel it, with how close he was to his friend and how he kept touching him. Richie… Richie was actually feeling calmer.

Eddie couldn’t believe it. That wasn’t supposed to happen like that. Something was wrong. Something was wrong. When the doctor got up and held out his hand to Richie, Eddie immediately reacted. He threw himself between Richie and his therapist, shielding his friend from what he thought was going to be an attack against him. Eddie was shaking, slightly wheezing. That was the moment he expected to happen, why he was there! This man wouldn’t hurt Richie, no matter what!

“Eddie...”

Eddie shook his head, grunting and whining. He didn’t want to hear Richie tell him to step aside, he wasn’t going to let anyone hurt him! He didn’t deserve it, he wasn’t a bad boy, he wasn’t stupid like Eddie was, he shouldn’t have to suffer as he did!

Everything came back to Eddie at once. Every single one of his therapy sessions, his mom’s physical and mental abuse, even Henry Bowers’s bullying towards him, all of this pain, all of this suffering that he refused to let Richie go through. Not if Eddie could be there to endure all of that for him…

He could feel his whole body shaking and his breathing getting erratic. He could clearly hear Richie calling out to him, his hands on his skin, but Eddie couldn’t move. He had to protect him. He had to protect him. He had to...

The doctor took a few steps back, looking at Eddie with a serious and concerned expression:

“Mr. Kaspbrak, you’re going through a panic attack. This is something that you can control. Breathe in for a count of four, hold for a second, and then breathe out for a count of four. Every time you’ll do that, I’ll take another step back. Do you understand?”

Richie repeated Dr. Norton’s instructions to Eddie, hugging him against his body. He breathed as the doctor said and Eddie followed Richie’s rhythm. Breathe in. Holding it. Breathe out. Breathe in. Holding it. Breathe out. Slowly, Eddie calmed down and went limp in Richie’s arms. His legs felt like noodles, barely able to support his weight. 

Dr. Norton slowly came closer and handed Eddie his teddy bear, that he had dropped on the ground in his panic. Eddie clutched it as hard as he could, biting on its ear and sucking on the fabric. Richie caressed his hair, whispering to his ear:

“You can relax, Eddie. I’m not in danger. We were never in danger. That’s how therapy is supposed to be."

And Eddie believed Richie, this time. Because Richie was calm and collected and smiling and the man wasn’t attacking him. He wasn’t trying to touch him, to take away from him things that he liked, to control him. They just… They just talked. That was it. Talking. Richie needed it. Eddie needed it too. Expressing his feelings with someone who would just listen. And give some good advice too.

Eddie sniffled. He had been so fucking scared for Richie… What if he really had to protect him? Eddie was a mess. He couldn’t have done a single thing for him. Richie would have suffered and Eddie would have just… stood there. Panicking. Wheezing. Unable to protect him, as he promised him. 

At the thought, Eddie started to wail, hiding his face against Richie’s torso. He couldn’t stop crying, from the relief of this terrible anxiety he went through and how guilty he felt for being so weak. Richie never stopped caressing his hair and whispering sweet words in his ear. Eddie needed it. He needed that so much, Richie’s touch, Richie’s words, him being there, alive, well, happy. 

Eddie exhausted himself, leaning on Richie more and more, his tears drying, his wails quieting down to tired moans. Tucking his plush under his armpit, Eddie kept gripping Richie’s shirt with one hand, sliding his left hand’s fingers in his mouth. Two fingers he sucked on, unable to stop himself, his thoughts slowly drifting away as they always did after his crises.

Richie set another appointment and took the card that his therapist gave him, something about a person suited for Eddie’s needs. He gently guided Eddie out of the room, making sure that he wouldn’t trip or fall on the way out. Eddie could only rely on his friend, too exhausted to do it on his own. He started to fall asleep in the elevator and Richie carried him to the car, installing him on the seat. 

Fighting sleep as much as he could, Eddie’s eyelids fluttered and he put an arm over Richie, as if he was still trying to shield him from any potential threat. He felt Richie slowly putting his arm away, relaxing at his words:

“You protected me well, Eddie. We’re safe. You can rest.”

For now, Eddie wasn’t really in any state to understand properly what he witnessed. Later, he would talk about it with Richie, Maggie and Wentworth and he would understand that it was how things would always happen for Richie. That he wasn’t about to be abused or infantilized or mistreated. And that’s probably how things would happen for him as well, in his own therapy session.

But right now, Eddie was too sleepy and the only thought that was crossing his mind was  _ Richie safe.  _ Richie was safe and he could… he could…

Eddie started to snore lightly and Richie chuckled at this sound. He carefully fastened his seat-belt, making sure that he was comfortably installed. He put on some soft music, to soothe Eddie’s anxiety, hoping that it would allow him to get some nice dreams, before driving back to their house. 

Richie couldn’t stop thinking about his session. He never felt so relaxed before, talking to a therapist. Dr. Norton seemed to be a good match for him. He could only hope that he would not try to cure him of his homosexuality, when he’ll talk to him about it. Next time. When Eddie wouldn’t be there to hear that. Eddie could never know that.

Richie kept giving fond looks to Eddie here and there, his heart beating fast thinking back to how fiercely protective he had been towards him. Eddie was so fucking brave. Richie could only imagine how terrified Eddie had been, but still, he had been there for him. Trying to protect him from whatever threat he perceived. Standing up for Richie, no matter what. 

“… I love you so fucking much, Eddie.”

Eddie mumbled in his sleep and Richie jumped, his heart missing a beat. Fuck, did he hear him? Why was he so stupid, letting his mouth say all of these things that he should just keep under wraps forever? But Eddie seemed to be out cold, lips slightly parted, snoring, whining and mumbling, pressed against the car’s door. Thank fucking god…

Eddie stayed asleep for the whole trip and Richie carried him to his room, installing him on his bed, lying next to him. After hesitating a few minutes, he allowed himself to be a bit selfish and hugged Eddie, who started to munch on his collar. 

“My knight in shining armor...”

Richie kissed his forehead softly, holding Eddie like he was the most precious thing in this world. And he was, for Richie. He truly was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Protective Eddie to the rescue! Richie had his first therapy session! It was a bit difficult to get into the chapter, but once I was, it was easier to write it.
> 
> I tried to remember my own first therapy session and to draw inspiration from it. My therapist had been so nice, she actually stayed later so that I could meet her as soon as possible and we talked a lot. I kinda miss her, now, I hope I'll find another therapist as good as she was. 
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter! Don't hesitate to leave comments and/or kudos, I really want to know what you thought about this chapter! Take care and see you soon!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Here's the eight chapter of this fanfic, I hope you'll like it! Thank you so much for your support, I hope you're all doing okay c:.
> 
> Here are the trigger warnings for this chapter:
> 
> TW for internalized homophobia  
> TW for ableism  
> TW for internalized ableism  
> TW for infantilization  
> TW for homophobic slurs  
> TW for self-harm  
> TW for emetophobia
> 
> Thank you! Good reading!

Richie liked the quiet moments he got to have with Eddie. As much as Eddie appreciated to be with everyone, he needed some calm as well, to refill his social energy, to avoid a potential crisis. Yet, he always wanted Richie to be here with him. As much as he could. Richie wasn’t one to protest against that. There was something so domestic about being able to share someone’s space and not feel the need to fill the silence between them.

Eddie was focused on one of Mike’s books, that he had brought for him from the library. Richie couldn’t help, but smile at how expressive Eddie was while reading. The way his eyebrows would furrow when something bad was happening, how he quietly lit up whenever the book featured positive moments… Richie could almost follow the whole plot just by looking at him. And boy, did he like looking at Eddie…

He seemed less tired than the days before, the bags under his eyes almost gone, his skin showing some color. Richie could only appreciate this fact. Eddie looked terribly unhealthy, under Sonia Kaspbrak’s “care”. He doubted they could fix up all the damage that she did on her son, starting with the way she stunted his growth with the diet she imposed on him, pretending that it was for his “own good”.

Eddie had barely gained an inch since the last time Richie saw him, which meant that Richie was clearly towering over him. Not that he hated the feeling, being tall enough to hug his Lil’ Eddie Spaghetti wholly, but it was still awful how much she hurt Eddie in so many ways.

It was easy to forget that Eddie was supposed to be twenty years old, looking at him. Not because of his mannerisms or his plush, even though it did make him look younger. But mostly because of how small and skinny he was, so much that Richie had the feeling that he could break him at any moment if he wasn’t careful enough…

But he knew that he shouldn’t start to think like that. Eddie was an adult and he didn’t need him to be needlessly cautious around him. Richie was pretty sure that he would hate the idea, truth be told… The only thing they could do was to make sure that he was eating healthily and enough to gain some weight, to erase Sonia’s abuse as much as possible.

Richie was supposed to read as well, a comic book on which he couldn’t focus on at all. Not when Eddie was so close to him and so damn cute, concentrated on his reading, curled up against him on their bed. Their bed… It’s been more than a week, but Richie still had a hard time believing that he was sharing his nights with Eddie. His nights and his days… Sometimes, he was afraid to wake up and to find out that all of it had just been a dream. That Eddie was still far away, out of his reach…

But it wasn’t the case so far and Richie could only hope that it would stay that way. If it was really a dream, Richie never wanted to wake up from it. He’d give his soul to the Devil himself, if it could ensure him to spend the rest of his life like this, with Eddie by his side…

Richie missed him so much, these last few years. Five years of despair, self-hatred, numbness. Richie would lie if he pretended that he never thought about ending all of it, here and there. It was a bit scary, thinking about it, how much Eddie was an essential element of his life. Without him, he felt… empty. Incomplete. Like he was a missing piece, looking desperately for the puzzle he was supposed to belong to. Eddie was his puzzle. His world. His heart. His love.

Richie resisted as much as he could the impulse to touch Eddie. To caress his soft hair. His cute face. Eddie didn’t seem to dislike it, but Richie couldn’t be entirely sure. He spent the last five years being manhandled by everyone around him, unable to protest, knowing fully well that no one would listen to his pleas. Maybe he thought that Richie was too much and he didn’t dare to say him that?

Richie bit his bottom lip, shaking his head, relieved that Eddie was too invested in his book to even look at him right now. Why was it always so complicated? Richie wasn’t angry at Eddie, how could he? He was just a victim in all of this, trying his best to survive after what happened to him, confused by so many things that weren’t like the crap his mom taught him forcefully.

No, Richie was angry at himself, for loving him in a way he wasn’t supposed to, for being too weak to bury his love and be the friend Eddie needed and deserved right now. He loved him. So fucking much. It hurt, just thinking about it. The way his heart was beating at his every move, the butterflies in his stomach every time Eddie smiled, how destroyed Richie was when his friend was sad and scared… Intense. So intense. Richie had always been like this, too much, it was only natural that a Richie in love would be that way as well.

But Eddie was not in a stable condition to learn about Richie’s feelings. And even if he was, Richie wasn’t sure Eddie would even  _ tolerate _ his presence if he ever told him. How much did Eddie know about love? A long time ago, he did rant about HIV and the dangers of diseases transmitted by blood, the kind of stuff he didn’t understand at all, but that his mom kept telling him and that he would just repeat because that’s how he had been raised. Richie still remembered that Sonia had called him a “queer”, a dirty queer. She was definitely not the type of person who would teach tolerance and acceptance to her son…

Maybe he would call him that way too. Maybe Eddie would tell him that he was disgusting. He would use Bowers’s words against him: fairy, faggot, girly boy… The thought suddenly made Richie nauseous. He got up instantly, apologizing to Eddie before running to the bathroom and emptying the content of his stomach in the toilet bowl. He retched painfully, wheezing slightly, cursing the way his anxiety episodes always put a strain on his bowels. 

Richie heard a knock on the door and a worried whine. Of course, Eddie was there, right behind the door, scared for him. Maybe he thought that Richie was sick because of him? Fuck… Richie got up on his wobbly legs, flushing the toilet. He took a deep breath, before opening the door, offering a smile to Eddie:

“I’m okay, Eds, don’t worry. Just having some trouble digesting today’s meal… I told Mom it was too spicy, but she didn’t believe me.”

Eddie grimaced at his words, seemingly empathizing with Richie’s words. Not that Richie really thought that. If anything, he loved eating spicy, but he saw Eddie struggling with his plate, until his mom swiftly took it, pretending that she was really hungry and needed the spice, replacing Eddie’s food with something blander. Apparently, Eddie had a more delicate palate than any of them, which wasn’t really a surprise, given his usual diet.

“ ’Going to brush my teeth, I feel awful. A kiss before I do so?”

Richie exaggeratedly pouted his lips and Eddie took a step back, letting out a disgusted “Ew!”. Richie laughed, while Eddie instinctively stuck his tongue out, before being embarrassed by his instinctive and childish answer. As he always did, Eddie followed Richie along, seemingly hesitating to touch him after he just vomited. Still a bit germaphobic, evidently…

Richie felt cleaner once his teeth were brushed, but he wasn’t quite ready to go back to their previous activity. How was he supposed to sit by Eddie’s side and not gush all over him? And then hate himself for his thoughts until he couldn’t bear it anymore? Ugh… He needed a distraction. Something, anything. 

“You finished some of your books, Eds, right? I still have mine to return… And a fine to pay.”

Richie grimaced, while Eddie nodded, looking at him with a curious gaze. Richie wasn’t sure it was such a great idea, but he needed to walk for a while and he couldn’t just leave Eddie behind. Besides, Eddie barely left the house since he came back and Richie doubted Mrs. K. allowed him to go outside much, just for fun. 

“Would you like to go see Mike at the library? You don’t have to say yes if you don’t, I...”

Richie didn’t even have the time to finish his sentence, Eddie nodding enthusiastically and flapping his hands. A happy noise left his lips and Richie felt his heart melt in his chest. Fuck, he really had it bad…

“But first, we need to disguise you a bit. If they can’t get a good picture of you, the Derry Herald’s assholes should leave you alone. And if they don’t, I’ll knock a few of their teeth out and I’ll send them to my father to fix them, that should teach them a lesson.”

Eddie chuckled at the idea. He followed Richie to his room, sitting on the bed while his friend was rummaging through his wardrobe. Richie gave him an over-sized hoodie and Eddie instantly put it on. The outfit was already too big for Richie, he usually wore it when he needed something comfy for the weekend, but Eddie was floating in it, which didn’t seem to bother him. Richie could barely see the hem of the shorts he was wearing under the hoodie, Eddie not very fond of the feeling of having his legs entirely covered. 

Richie rolled his sleeves and pulled the hood over Eddie’s face. He wasn’t quite sure Eddie could see anything like that, but his face was hidden, at least. He went downstairs to look for sunglasses to put on Eddie and came back to him flapping his terribly long sleeves, enjoying the feeling. Richie stopped a few seconds to watch him do so, heart beating, face flustered. Eddie looked so… happy. 

He was smiling and making these little noises that Richie loved to hear so much, flapping his sleeves again and again. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Richie was dead and had ascended Heaven, it was for sure now. No way a scene so beautiful and pleasant could happen in his day-to-day life… Yep, he was dead. Or dreaming. Maybe dead-dreaming. If Eddie was the light he wasn’t supposed to follow to go back to his life, Richie was definitely lost. 

Taking a deep breath, Richie managed to get out of his stupor and to put his sunglasses on Eddie’s face. There, perfect. Eddie looked like anyone, but Eddie. Eddie never wore hoodies and even if it was pretty easy to guess who was the tiny cutie pie following Richie around, they’ll have to get closer to get a picture of him showing his face, and Richie could show them that he wasn’t definitely all bark and no bite.

“Perfect, Eddie. Let me grab a bag for our books and all.”

Richie opened his backpack, putting his book and Eddie’s in it. Eddie seemed to hesitate but decided to put his plush in it as well, keeping his slate with him. He wrote on it, biting on his bottom lip while doing so:

_ Don’t want people to look at me. Like they did in the waiting room.  _

Richie had noticed that Eddie seemed bothered by the few people that were glancing at him, when he went with him to the therapist. Which was probably a progress and something to feel happy about, since Eddie seemed so used so far to people staring at him like a circus freak and didn’t react to it at all, but still. Richie hated that Eddie could feel self-conscious, that people made him feel like he was doing something wrong. Eddie needed his comfort object to feel at ease, why was it such a big deal? Didn’t they have better things to do than to stare?

“You’re sure about that, Eddie? You can keep it with you, we’ll give the middle finger to people who...”

Eddie shook his head wildly and Richie could only respect his wish. It would be the first time Eddie left the house without holding his plush in his arms. Richie wasn’t quite sure he was ready for it, but he didn’t want to be overprotective, like Mike told him he was. And he wasn’t wrong. Looking at Eddie in his over-sized hoodie, flapping nervously his sleeves, Richie just wanted to hug him and keep him away from the rest of the world, so that no one could ever hurt him again. Which was definitely not a healthy thought to have.

A box of tissues for Eddie’s fingers that he kept sucking on, Richie’s Walkman with some music if Eddie needed to relax a bit and they were ready. Before leaving, Richie took some biscuits, because he just emptied his stomach and he would certainly feel light-headed at a moment or another. While Eddie was tying his shoes, his mom stopped Richie, looking at him with concern when he told him where they’ll be headed:

“Are you sure you’ll be okay, Richie? I can come with you, if you want. Maybe you could take the car or...”

“Mom, it’s going to be fine.” Richie gave her a reassuring smile, even though he was anxious as well. “We’re just going to the library. It’s definitely not far enough to take the car and Eddie needs to stretch his legs a bit. He can’t just stay cooped up here indefinitely.”

His mother hugged him, visibly worried:

“Don’t go looking for trouble and if you ever cross Henry Bowers’s path, you stay far away from him, you hear me?”

Richie grimaced at the thought. Bowers hated his guts, even more since he broke his nose with his poor phone, and Richie couldn’t imagine what he would try to do if he saw him with Eddie. Fuck, could he just have to worry about one thing at a time? Now, Richie wanted nothing more than to stay home and cover Eddie in bubble wrap.

He sighed, trying to stay calm in spite of the nervous feeling that was invading his mind.

“I won’t look for trouble and everything will be fine. Like I said, Eddie can’t stay cooped up in our house forever.”

Richie heard a little noise coming from behind him. Eddie was visibly getting impatient, bouncing on his feet, flapping his sleeves. Richie hugged his mom one last time, winking at her, before joining Eddie, his backpack on his shoulder. A deep breath and they left. The library wasn’t too far, just enough to allow them to breathe a little and get some fresh air.

Eddie was following him closely, keeping his head down most of the time, allowing himself to look at his surroundings here and there, when he didn’t hear people around. Even before he left, Eddie wasn’t allowed to go out much, so Derry probably wasn’t that familiar to him. Richie promised himself that they would go out more once Eddie would feel better and people would forget about him a little. 

Right now, those who passed by them looked at Richie and Eddie with a curious stare, turning their head to the other side when Richie glared at them. The library was close by, they should be there in a few minutes…

Richie felt a hand in his and he suddenly froze. Not in awe, like he usually did when Eddie touched him or got closer to him. When he did so, they were usually in his home or he needed to make sure that Eddie was fine, so he couldn’t pay attention to anything else. But right now,  _ right now _ , they were just walking together and… and… Eddie was holding his hand. In public.

Faggot. Fairy. Queer. He could hear them all, saying those things to him. Henry Bowers’s scream echoing in his ears, when Richie dared to play with his cousin, to touch his hand. Faggot. Faggot. Faggot. Richie’s breath got caught in his throat and he pulled out his hand from Eddie. Eddie who looked at him with his big brown eyes, full of incomprehension.

Eddie put his fingers in his mouth, sucking on them nervously, and Richie tried so hard to push himself to take his hand in his. To say “fuck it” to everyone else, to his stupid thoughts and his stupid body, reacting on his own. But he couldn’t. He was… He was scared. He was so fucking scared.

Putting his hands in his pockets, he offered a smile to Eddie, who didn’t return it to him. Maybe he couldn’t, maybe he was thinking about something else, and yet, Richie couldn’t help, but think that he might be angry at him. Because Eddie needed his support and Richie couldn’t give it to him. Because he was the fucking worst.

Here, in Derry, everything was different. Richie felt even dirtier than he usually felt. He could still remember what they had written on the bathroom stalls about him, burning memories that would never go away, that would keep haunting him, no matter what. That he sucked cocks. That he was a fucking queer.

Richie wanted to go home. Right now. But they arrived at the library and Eddie was happy and he couldn’t just… go away. Richie tried to smile at him, to do the same with Mike, but while Eddie, too busy saluting his friend, was definitely oblivious, Mike was not. Richie was paler than a ghost, sweating and he felt nauseous once again.

“Mike… Can you… Eddie… uh… Bathroom.”

And before any of them could say a single thing, Richie ran to the bathroom stall. He didn’t have anything left in his stomach, but he vomited once again, the rancid taste of bile invading his mouth, hurting his abused throat. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. Instead he just… stayed there. Sitting on the bathroom’s floor, feeling sorry for himself, like the asshole that he was.

Why did he do that? Why couldn’t he just take Eddie’s hand and be done with it? He constantly touched him when they were home, even when they were at the therapist, what was so different now? Eddie just needed his support, to feel that he was there with him. But Richie was disgusting and he kept thinking those dirty things and he ruined everything, as usual. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He needed to get up. To go with Eddie. To make sure that he was okay. That he… That he… 

A whine. Fingers scraping the door. Richie finally found the strength to get on his feet and opened the door, facing Eddie. He should crack a joke. Smile. Say something funny. Come on, he was so good at it, he was a fucking clown! He was in a library, he should be able to make a fucking joke about it! One joke… just one joke…

“I...”

Richie barely managed to get one word out before he started to sob. And he hugged Eddie tightly, so tightly. Taking a step back, he locked them together in the stall, not wanting anyone else to see him like this. Fucking Richie Tozier, weeping and sobbing in his friend’s arms, his friend who he loved more than a friend… How pathetic was that?

He felt Eddie shaking in his arms and he heard him cry as well, crying for him, tearing up for him. Fuck… He really didn’t deserve him. But hearing him in such a distressed state, that was all Richie needed to push his own feelings deep, deep down, to bury them and forget them as quickly as he could. Wiping his face, he caressed Eddie’s hair, shushing him gently:

“Shh, I’m okay. I swear, I’m okay. It’s nothing, I’m just… I’m just a bit sick and I’m always on edge after my therapy sessions. It’s… It’s cool, okay? I’m sorry, I’m ruining your first outing, it was supposed to be fun...”

Richie rocked Eddie gently, Eddie who couldn’t control his emotions once they were out, Eddie who was whining and crying against him, Eddie who started to pull on his hair in his uncontrollable fit. Richie took his hand in his and hated himself for being so comfortable with it, knowing that no one could see them. He was the worst. He was definitely the worst.

Eddie started to calm down, but he was still sniffling and he was certainly not fine. Richie softly cupped his face in his hands, offering him a smile:

“You know what, Eds? You and I, we’re going to leave this fucking bathroom. You’ll listen to David Bowie on my Walkman and Mike’s going to find you a nice place to give you the time to rest peacefully. Does that seem good to you?”

Eddie wiped his face on his sleeve, something he would never do in his usual state, but that Richie couldn’t care less about, shaking his head. He didn’t have his slate with him, probably forgetting it on Mike’s desk, but even if he did, Richie doubted that he would be able to use it properly. He was flapping his sleeves angrily, looking at Richie intently, whining and sniffling.

He tried to say something, but Eddie was still unable to articulate the words he meant to say. So he just hugged Richie tightly, refusing to let him go. Every time Richie tried to separate himself from him, Eddie kept hugging him and shaking his head.

“Eddie… I swear, I’m alright. I’m just going to pay my fine and bother Mike when he’s supposed to be working. And you’re going to relax, listen to David Bowie, read a nice book and everything’s going to be cool. Okay?”

Richie saw the shift in Eddie’s attitude. That moment where he just let go and nodded and submitted because he felt like that’s what he was  _ supposed  _ to do. Because he thought that Richie had given him an order and that he should just obey him. Like he obeyed his mom. Like he obeyed his therapist. And Richie should say something, he knew he should. But he was weak and he needed a quiet time and he needed to talk to Mike and fuck. He was awful.

“L... Let’s go, alright?”

Eddie followed him, chewing on one of his sleeves, eyes downcast. He didn’t move when Richie put the headphones on his head and he just took the book that Mike was handing him, without giving it much more than a glance. He immediately curled up under Mike’s desk, a tiny space where no one could see him, a safe space, and stayed there. Quiet. Still. Book opened, but eyes barely following the lines.

The library was pretty empty at this hour of the day. Most people just put their books in a box for Mike to record their return, but they didn’t stay. Thankfully for Richie. Richie who sat on a table, causing Mike to raise an eyebrow, and put his face in his hands:

“Go on, Mike. You can tell me that I’m fucking disgusting. I earned it.”

Mike shook his head, pulling a chewing gum out of his pocket, touching Richie’s shoulder to get his attention. Grateful, Richie put the gum in his mouth, covering the foul taste with it:

“Thanks, Mikey Mike. But honestly, you should just fucking punch me instead of pampering me like that.”

“I’m not here for your bullshit, Richie.”

Mike looked around them, hesitated, before closing the library, earlier than he usually did. He was the only one working here, no one to tell him anything. Fuck, Richie really didn’t deserve him as a friend.

“You can talk, Richie. I’m not going anywhere. Eddie’s listening to his music. He’s not going to hear you.”

Because he basically ordered him to do so… Richie hated himself so much for that. He sighed, before managing to tell Mike what happened. No use trying to cover it. He definitely didn’t have the energy to hide behind his jokes any longer. Mike didn’t interrupt him, sitting on a chair, listening to him intently.

“… And I fucking told him to read and to listen to David Bowie and he thought it was a fucking order and I… I just… I didn’t tell him that it wasn’t the case. That he could do whatever he wanted. I… I fucking know that he’s still trapped in his mother’s bullshit, that we have to remind him constantly that he can choose freely what he wants to do, but I let him do that because I’m a fucking coward and I needed to talk and I was so fucking scared that he might listen to me and...”

Mike got up, putting his hands on his friend’s shoulders, and Richie stopped his rambling, only realizing now that he really needed to breathe. He did so and Mike gave him a patient smile.

“Okay, that’s good. Now, you’re going to listen to me… and no interruptions, okay?”

Richie nodded and Mike offered him another smile:

“You’re not a monster. You’re not disgusting. I’m not qualified to talk to you about this stuff and, really, I think you should absolutely bring that up with your therapist next time you’ll see him, but I know that you’re doing your best and that you’re struggling with some awful stuff. It’s not… Derry is not really a paragon of tolerance or acceptance. People might talk. Rumors might spread. And with Eddie’s current fame, it’s… it’s complicated.”

Sitting next to Richie on the table, Mike kept talking:

“You have the right to be tired. You have the right to make mistakes. You...”

“Not with Eddie!” Richie retorted, offended. “I can’t make mistakes with Eddie. Not like that! I… I treated him like his fucking mom, I...”

“No.” Mike shook his head. “You were panicking and you told him something and Eddie reacted like he did because his mom brainwashed him to react that way and that’s it. It’s not your fault. Richie, fuck, you really need to talk to someone about those things. I… You can’t just keep it under wrap like that, you’re going to explode.”

Richie sighed and Mike added:

“Not that it’s the only reason for you to do that, but Eddie needs you and you can’t help him if you’re a mess, Richie. I’d like to just tell you to take care of yourself and you’d do it, but you’re Richie Tozier and you can’t take care of yourself. Like, at all.”

“Hey!”

“Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me that you didn’t start to think that you should think about yourself just because I told you that it would be good for Eddie. Come on, Richie, tell me.”

Richie bit his bottom lip and he didn’t answer. He didn’t want to answer. Mike knew it anyway. Why would he need to vocalize how fucking weird and obsessed he was?

“Take care of yourself. I’m only asking you that. When it’s too much, trust others to take care of you. Trust Eddie as well. He immediately ran after you when you left. He would jump from a fricking cliff for you, Richie. I’m sure of it.”

And Richie clearly didn’t want that to happen. For Eddie to do this kind of thing for him, for Eddie to care about him like that, at the expense of himself… No, Eddie should think about himself first. Think about getting better before everything else.

And he was under Mike’s desk, all alone. Richie actually left him there to talk with Mike. He was the worst. He was definitely the worst. Getting up, he immediately joined him. Eddie had dropped his book and was putting his hands on Richie’s headphones, eyes closed, mumbling softly. Richie tried to get his attention as gently as possible, but Eddie still jumped, taking his book in his hands, trying to make it look like he was still reading. As if Richie would punish him if he didn’t… Richie took a deep breath, gesturing to Eddie to take off his headphones.

“Eds, I’m sorry. I was tired and I worried you. I needed to talk to Mike about some stuff and I should have taken the time to tell you that you could do anything you wanted. I… I didn’t give you an order. You don’t have to obey me or anything like that. You understand?”

Eddie nodded silently, chewing on his sleeve. Slowly, he got out from his tiny space, hugging Richie, looking at him with his eyes full of worry and affection. Richie could get lost in this look, this look that was saying so much to those who knew how to read it… He ruffled Eddie’s hair, smiling to him:

“I’m fine. And you, you’re okay, Eds?”

Eddie seemed to hesitate, before nodding once again. As if he wasn’t totally sure of the answer he was supposed to give… But Richie decided that he would let it go for now. He’ll ask him about that later. Once they’ll both feel better.

They came back to Mike, who reminded Richie that he had to pay his fine. Richie rolled his eyes and Eddie chuckled, visibly amused by his predicament. They helped Mike however they could and Eddie seemed at ease in what he was doing, making sure that every book was where it belonged. Richie remembered Mike’s offer and he realized that it was really for the best, if Eddie wanted to do it as well.

The library was quiet, tidied, peaceful. Eddie seemed to be able to orientate himself quite easily, as if he had done that since forever. Mike would be here. And Richie wouldn’t be. Eddie could have some quiet time. Away from him. From his dirty thoughts. From his mistakes.

Mike brought them back home in his car. Richie thanked him profusely, but he didn’t seem to care for it, only smiling, proposing Richie to pay him his tab next time they’ll go to a restaurant or a bar together. Maybe he should bring Eddie as well, if Eddie wanted to do so… A quiet restaurant, all three of them. As friends. Best friends. Nothing more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mike is like "Thank god they're seeing a therapist" xD. Next time they'll see him, it'll be more chill, I swear xD.
> 
> But more seriously, Mike is still the best. I really like writing him. 
> 
> Richie really needs to work on his internalized homophobia, it's getting worse and worse :c. Thankfully, he has someone to talk to now. 
> 
> And I really wanted to write Richie slipping up with Eddie and making a mistake. As much as he wants to be perfect for him, Richie's going to make mistakes. It's a delicate situation and he has to deal with his own issues as well, so it's complicated.
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter c:. I'm really looking forward to read your comments on this one. Don't hesitate to leave a review and/or kudos. Have a nice day!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Here's the ninth chapter c:. I hope you'll like it! 
> 
> In case it happens again, I wanted to apologize if I'm being too opinionated or passionate while answering your comments. A lot of what's happening in this fanfic hits very close to me and my own life, so I might be a bit too intense. Don't hesitate to tell me if that's the case!
> 
> Here are the Trigger Warnings for this chapter:
> 
> TW for mention of ableism  
> TW for internalized ableism  
> TW for r-word  
> TW for self-harm
> 
> Thank you for your attention and good reading!

Eddie couldn’t find sleep. He pretended that he did, for the sake of Richie, to prevent him from being worried and anxious, but he closed his eyes for what seemed hours and he was still widely awake. Eddie was nervous, too nervous.

Of course, there was his therapy session tomorrow, that he couldn’t stop to think about. It was supposed to happen in the morning, at their house, and Richie assured him that he would be there with him at all times if he needed, that Maggie and Went, who wasn’t working, wouldn’t be far either. Still, Eddie was scared. Scared that it wouldn’t be like Richie’s session, scared that he might fail it entirely and be punished for it, as he was sometimes in his previous sessions.

What if Richie realized that Eddie was beyond any hope to be helped and just gave up on him? What if he started to regret having him at home, having him as his friend? Eddie couldn’t bear the thought. Sucking furiously on his fingers, Eddie looked at Richie, unable to keep his gaze away from him.

If he was just worried about his therapy, Eddie could get past it. It wouldn’t be the first time he was anxious about those kinds of things. But his mind was filled with questions since that day they went together at the library and he couldn’t find any satisfying answer. People tended to think that Eddie was stupid and oblivious, but he noticed things. Things that they said, things that they didn’t say.

And he definitely noticed the fact that Richie had something to say to Mike and that he didn’t want Eddie to learn about it. But what was that about? He had no fucking clue. And it was obsessing him. Many times, he started to write  _ the  _ question on his white slate, before giving up and wiping it nervously. Because he was scared. Because he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what Richie had to say. 

Eddie was used to people talking about him constantly, especially when he was there and they could pretend that he wasn’t listening to them or that he didn’t understand what they said. His mom and his previous therapist did that constantly, especially his mother. Even before his diagnosis, his mom always shushed him and talked for him about him, to the doctors, to the school, to everyone else. Complaining about his health and how hard it was on her. Playing up his troubles and trying to get people to pity him. 

Eddie closed his eyes, curling up on himself, biting on his fingers. Every time he thought about his mom, he had a hard time determining what he was feeling. Too many things at the same time. He was angry. He was scared. He was sad. And a tiny part of him was… happy. And he was ashamed to even admit that he was feeling that. It was monstrous to think that he could be happy that his mother was dead. After everything she did for him, he… he…

Eddie began to hum anxiously, loudly. He only started to hit his head when Richie’s hand prevented him to do so, his friend looking at him with a concerned gaze. 

“You okay, Eds?”

Richie caressed his cheek with his other hand and Eddie instantly relaxed his jaw, like a reflex. Putting his glasses on and turning on their bedside lamp, Richie grabbed Eddie’s white slate and pen, deposing it on his lap. 

Waiting for Eddie’s permission, Richie then helped him in a more comfortable position against his body, hugging him, holding his slate for him so that Eddie could still keep his fingers in his mouth if he needed. And he did. It was soothing him and he was too nervous to not resort to this coping mechanism. A part of him was a bit ashamed to have to do that, but Richie allowed it, so it was all okay, right?

“Anxious, Eddie? I noticed you weren’t sleeping. I was waiting to see if you would find sleep on your own. Or if you’d talk to me. You can do that, you know? You can wake me up whenever needed. It’s okay.”

Eddie shook his head. He wasn’t going to bother Richie in his sleep! Richie needed to rest, he was already doing so much for him. Eddie could deal with his anxiety all alone. He did that for five years and more, he could still do that during the night. He just needed to be quiet, to not disturb his friend in the meanwhile. 

Eddie had many things to say. To ask. But instead, he just wrote quickly on his slate, offering a curious look to Richie:

_ How did you know I wasn’t sleeping? _

Richie smiled at his words, ruffling Eddie’s hair.

“Easy, Eds. You’re a snorer. And you didn’t start to snore once. Really, dude, you’re terrible at pretending that you’re asleep. But that was cute, you closing your eyes and trying very, very hard to make me think that you were sleeping…”

Richie chuckled and Eddie groaned. He forgot about that. He was never really good at pretending and lying. He couldn’t help himself from squirming when he did and he always felt awfully guilty, unable to keep up the lie very long. The only time he ever managed to do that was when he pretended that he was going to the chess club when he was meeting his friends. And even then, it wasn’t totally a lie…

“What’s bothering you so much, Eds? Your therapy?”

Eddie hesitated. He wanted to ask Richie what he had to say to Mike that he didn’t want him to hear. Maybe he wanted to complain about him? But Eddie needed to know, if that was the case! That would allow him to correct his behavior, to get better, to not bother him anymore. He needed to know, but… but he was too scared. Maybe he told Mike that he regretted having him around? That he wanted his freedom again, when he didn’t have to care for Eddie?

Richie caressed his cheek gently and Eddie relaxed his jaw once again, coming back to reality. He shook his head, chasing the creeping feeling of anxiety that was invading him and preventing him from communicating clearly. He took a deep breath, before writing on his slate, feeling ashamed that he wasn’t really saying the truth:

_ Don’t want to fail my session tomorrow. _

Richie raised an eyebrow at his words, confused.

“To… to fail your session? Eddie, there’s no failing in therapy. That’s not how it works.”

Eddie shook his head, writing quickly on his slate:

_ Not true! You were good at your session. Didn’t fail. Don’t want to fail. When I fail, it’s bad. Take away things. Punish me. _

Richie hugged him tightly and Eddie felt his breath on his skin, a strange feeling that caused him to shiver slightly.

“I wasn’t “good” at my session. I just talked, because I trusted Dr. Norton to listen to me. I wasn’t expecting a reward and I wasn’t afraid of being punished, because that’s not how it works. If you don’t talk to your therapist tomorrow, we’re not going to take away your plush or your books. We’re not going to punish you. It’s not a test that you have to ace or anything like that. It’s just you talking about the things you want to talk about. Because it helps.”

Richie caressed his hair while talking to him and Eddie sighed softly. He liked it, feeling Richie’s fingers in his hair. He was always so soft, making sure that he wouldn’t hurt Eddie while doing so, ready to stop if he showed any sign of discomfort. It was… It was very nice. Not something Eddie was used to, to be honest.

He still had a hard time believing that he wouldn’t be punished. Especially if he didn’t talk, if that’s what he was supposed to do. Sucking nervously on his fingers, Eddie wrote slowly, humming anxiously:

_ Had to obey during therapy. Pointing things. Getting up. Sitting down. Got treats when I was good boy. Screamed at me when I was bad. Had to stay still. Not be bad. When bad, punished.  _

Eddie was having more and more trouble articulating his thoughts. He was seeing them vividly, his sessions, the way his mother would treat him when he wasn’t behaving nicely. How she would pin him to the ground when he started to get upset and to hurt himself. The awful stuff she forced him to eat because she knew he hated it, she knew that it would make him gag. The threats. She would withdraw her affection if he wasn’t a nice boy. And he needed her love. He had nothing else in the world.

“Eddie, you’re with me? Eds, you need to focus on my voice.”

Eddie bear, she would say, why can’t you be nice? I’m doing so much for you, why are you so ungrateful? She would cry. He hated seeing her cry. It made him feel guilty, terribly guilty. What kind of son would make his mother cry? What kind of son would force her to care for him and not thank her properly? He was a bad son. A bad boy. He… He…

Eddie felt something hot and heavy surrounding him, wrapping him up. Arms hugging him, not touching his skin. It took him a few minutes to realize that Richie had just rolled him up in their blanket, cuddling him, rocking him slowly. His soft voice was singing the first lines of Space Oddity in Eddie’s ear, using his name to ground him into reality.

Eddie wiped his face, awfully wet, on the blanket, and let out a small noise, signaling to Richie that he was there with him. Richie sighed, awfully relieved, stopping his song.

“Fuck, Eds… Don’t go where I can’t follow you. Uh… Not an order, but… but I want to help you and to be there for you. And I’m not Prof X. yet, so if you’re too much in your head, I can’t be with you. I… I want to… I… uh...”

Richie was losing his words, stammering and babbling less and less coherently. Eddie got out of the cocoon his friend created for him, cupping Richie’s face in his hands, looking at him with what he hoped was a reassuring gaze. Richie seemed frozen, unable to react, unable to say a single thing. Eddie got closer, letting out an interrogative noise, and Richie jumped, seemingly startled.

“I… uh… Bathroom. I have, like, explosive diarrhea coming right out. Need to go!”

Richie left the bed quickly and Eddie scrunched up his nose with a disgusted expression. While he was gone doing something in the bathroom that Eddie definitely didn’t want to think about, Eddie put back their blanket correctly and slipped under it, waiting for Richie to come back.

He was feeling a bit better. Not totally, but he was less worried, being reassured that Richie would be there with him. The way he hugged him and did and said all those nice things to him… Eddie felt a warm sensation bubbling in his body and he couldn’t prevent himself from cooing, muffling his voice behind his hand. Richie was definitely disgusting, but… but he was  _ Richie  _ and this simple fact was enough to make Eddie happy and giggly. Something he didn’t quite understand, but it didn’t matter. Not when he was so weirdly enjoyed, at least.

Eddie tried waiting for Richie to come back, to make sure that he was okay, but it was very late and he was getting tired. Awfully tired. He struggled to keep his eyes open, yawning, but to no avail. Richie still wasn’t back when Eddie lost his fight and fell asleep. Dreaming about Richie, both of them safe in a cozy cocoon, hugging and laughing.

*

Eddie was barely able to eat a single thing during their breakfast. Richie tried to encourage him to do so, but Eddie was just too anxious. Everything had an awful taste and he could barely get himself to swallow, even the tiniest bite. She was about to arrive. His therapist. Eddie got up from the table and started to pace around, chewing on his plush’s ear. Richie followed him, keeping an eye on him.

“Eds, it’s going to be fine. I’ll stay with you. Mom and Dad won’t be far either. You’re not alone.”

“If you need to, Richie will call us, son, and we’ll be there for you.”

Wentworth assured him that, but Eddie couldn’t feel reassured by this fact. His mom was always nearby when he had his therapy sessions, but that didn’t mean that she was going to help him. On the contrary. She was often the one hurting him, forcing him to do these awful things and… and…

Eddie started to slap his forehead, grunting and whining, fighting Richie’s grip when he tried to stop him. But he suddenly heard the bell rang and immediately calmed himself down. Sitting on his chair, putting his hands on his lap, his plush on the table. Hands quiet. Good boy. Nice boy. Richie called out to him, but Eddie didn’t move. No, he had to be nice. His therapist would tell him when their session would start. He would point his colors and his body parts and obey her orders and everything would be okay. He was a good boy. A very good boy.

“Edward?”

Eddie raised his head, looking at his new therapist. She was standing a bit far from him, offering him a soft smile. Raising up her glasses, she introduced herself, keeping her hands to herself:

“My name is Nora Park. I’ll be your therapist if you’re satisfied with my services. Would you like to take place on the couch over there? You’ll surely feel more comfortable.”

Eddie didn’t understand why she asked him that. It didn’t matter what he wanted. He just had to be a good boy and to obey. But she didn’t give him any instructions. She just told him her name and asked him what he wanted to do. Eddie was clearly lost, here. He looked at her with a confused gaze, resisting as best as he could to the impulse to put his fingers in his mouth. She would surely tell him to keep his hands quiet and fold them on his lap, because good boys were still and quiet and they didn’t put their fingers in their mouth.

He started to scratch his palm, waiting for orders, when Richie softly nudged him, offering him a smile.

“Eds, do you want to stay here or do you want to sit on the couch?”

Choices. Richie was presenting him options and Eddie was supposed to make a decision. He knew he would feel better on the couch. He could cuddle with Richie if he started to feel anxious and it was a safe space. Eddie wanted to feel safe. So, he slowly wrote on his slate, grimacing at how difficult it was for him right now to use his pen:

_ COUCH _

Richie nodded and took his hand in his. Eddie followed him, his plush tucked under his armpit, his slate in his other hand. He stayed wary of his therapist, looking at her, but she just took a chair and sat in front of them. The coffee table between them reassured slightly Eddie. She wouldn’t be able to grab him easily, from where she was sitting.

Putting a bag on the table, she proceeded to empty it of its content, while explaining to Eddie:

“I’m working with patients who went through various traumatic experiences. A lot of them have trouble putting words on what they lived and I’m doing what I can to offer them alternative ways to express their feelings. Those cards will help you if you can’t find the words you want to use to talk to me. If you want to talk to me, of course. You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Eddie grimaced when Dr. Park mentioned cards and curled up against Richie. He didn’t want to have to point at cards. He would get them wrong and she would be angry at him. He knew it. He knew it because he was stupid and stupid boys always got things wrong.

She offered him another smile, while Richie was caressing his hair, trying to relax him. But Eddie was too anxious to be soothed right now. He really wanted to put his fingers between his lips and he didn’t dare to do so. He started to hum nervously and clasped his hand on his mouth to muffle the sound. He had to stop. Right now. Quiet. Quiet. Quiet.

“Edward, you don’t have to censor yourself like that. These noises that you’re making, they’re a way for you to express what you’re feeling. It’s my job to listen to you, no matter how you’re expressing yourself. I’m the one who’s supposed to adapt to your needs. If you could only talk through Morse code, then I’ll just have to take a dictionary and translate it. It might take a while, though...”

Richie chuckled lightly. But Eddie didn’t understand. That’s not how it worked. He… He was supposed to… Eddie whined anxiously. Richie gave him his plush and he hugged it fearfully, rocking to soothe himself. She was going to stop him, right? There was no way she would let him act like that, right?

But she didn’t. Dr. Park just finished to put the cards on the table and showed them to Eddie:

“Those are supposed to help you express what you’re feeling at any moment. Sad face, happy face, angry face, disgusted face, and so on. If you feel like it’s too complicated to write how you’re feeling, you can show me one or more of these cards. As for these ones...”

She showed him other cards, featuring numbers from zero to ten.

“You could use them to give me an idea of how intensively you’re feeling something. For example, I can see that you’re very anxious. Could you tell me how anxious you feel? Zero would be you feeling perfectly calm and ten would mean that you’re experiencing a panic attack. Take the time you need. There is no wrong answer there. I’m just trying to see if this system is good for you.”

She talked a lot, but Eddie didn’t have trouble to follow. She wasn’t dumbing down her words for him or giving him orders. It was… It was very unusual. Putting reflexively his fingers in his mouth, he sucked on them while he was trying to figure out how he felt. He was very, very anxious. But Richie was there and he could soothe himself and he knew that Maggie and Wentworth weren’t far either.

He hesitated for a while, before touching the card “Seven”. Dr. Park nodded, smiling once again:

“Thank you for your answer, Edward. I’ll try to do my best to get this number lower for our next sessions. If you still want to see me after that, of course.”

Eddie nodded, a bit unsure, but less scared. She wasn’t trying to touch him. She wasn’t barking orders at him. And Richie was there. Richie was hugging him. He nuzzled his face against his torso, sighing softly.

“You seem to like your friend a lot. Would you like to tell me how did you meet?”

Eddie instantly took his slate, detaching himself from Richie. Of course, he would like to tell her! He loved talking about Richie! He was his best friend! Cooing happily, he wrote on his slate how they met, five years ago, in school. How nice Richie had been with him since then. He talked about the time they spent at the quarry together, with the Losers Club, how Richie helped him with his homework, about their sleepover. And… And about the last moment they spent together before Eddie had to leave.

Eddie’s smile faltered, thinking about that. He put his pen on the table, hugging his plush. He never forgot what happened. How mean his mother had been towards Richie. Richie crying, hugging him, promising all of those things. How he then thought that Richie had forgotten him. That he didn’t want to write to him. To see him anymore.

“It must have been very hard, having to leave Richard behind. Did you miss him?”

Eddie nodded quietly. He missed Richie. A lot. He never stopped missing Richie. His other friends too, but Richie… Richie was special. Richie was his best friend. His best, best, best friend. And… And he needed him. He needed him so much.

Richie caressed his hair. Softly, gently, as he always did. Eddie took a deep breath, wiping his watery eyes. He wanted to cry. He wasn’t even sure why.

“Did you have friends, where your mother and you moved in?”

Eddie shook his head. He took his time to write, shaking slightly:

_ No friends. Too stupid for friends. Only see therapist and mommy. Then journalists. No friends.  _

“You’re not stupid, Edward. Did people tell you that?”

Eddie nodded once again. Of course, they did. And they were right. That’s what he wrote on his slate, as clearly as he could:

_ Stupid and retarded. Need help with everything. Can’t do anything alone. Mommy there. Need Mommy. Can’t do anything without Mommy. _

Richie was about to say something, but he forced himself to stop, while the therapist signaled him to stay quiet. Eddie wasn’t aware of their interaction, too focused on what he was writing, on what he was thinking. Mommy. He needed his mommy and she wasn’t there. She would never be here anymore. How was he supposed to…? He… He needed her. He…

“Did they tell you that every day? How often?”

He nodded, pointing at the “Nine” card. That’s what they were saying to him, most of the time. What his mom told him. That he was too stupid and retarded and that he needed her. And she was right, because he couldn’t wash himself, he couldn’t dress up on his own, he couldn’t… he wasn’t… he…

Eddie started to forget his words. His grip on his pen was all wrong. His thoughts were confused. Because… Because he was stupid, right? Stupid boys can’t talk.

“Edward, can you tell me what you did this morning before I arrived?”

Eddie raised his head, looking at his therapist with a hazy gaze. He didn’t have the words to tell her that. He didn’t remember. He needed his mom. His mom would know. His mom would tell her.

“Did you dress up on your own?”

Eddie nodded at her question because that was the case. Because that’s how it happened.

“Did you need help, taking your shower?”

Eddie shook his head. Richie was in the bathroom with him, but Eddie didn’t call him. He washed himself and put his clothes on and he was ready for breakfast.

“So, you did those things all alone. Without your mother.”

Eddie thought about it for a while, his gaze starting to get more vivid. Yes. Yes, he remembered. He did that on his own! He was able to do it and didn’t ask Richie’s help and… and his mother wasn’t there. He did all of that without her. He was able to do that without her.

“I don’t think you’re stupid or retarded, Edward. I think that you went through something very traumatic and that it’s making things even more difficult for you than they usually are. I think that it’s very brave of you to talk about those things and I would like to be there for you as long as you need me. Would you like that?”

Eddie nodded, smiling clumsily. He liked Dr. Park. She was nice and she treated him like an adult. Because he was an adult. He wasn’t a child anymore. He chuckled and nuzzled his face against Richie, humming happily. He would like to see her more. Really.

“Thank you for trusting me, Edward. I know it must be difficult for you. I’d like to talk with you about the therapy sessions you experienced, but we’ll do that another time. For now, would you like to tell me about something that made you happy this week?”

Eddie nodded happily. His words came back easily to him, while he was writing about how he went out for the first time since he came here and how he helped Mike at the library. They talked a bit more, until it was time for Dr. Park to leave.

“I’m leaving you those cards, Edward. You can use them if it helps you, with your friends and family. For our next session, if you want to, I’d like you to write down three things that made you feel positive feelings and three things that made you feel negative feelings. We’ll take the time to discuss it together. Doing so could help you put words on what you’re experiencing in your daily life. Would you like that to do that?”

Eddie nodded once again. Three positive things, three negative things… He had a full week to think about that. Dr. Park offered him a smile, getting up from her chair:

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Edward. I’ll see you next week. Richard, can I see you and your parents for a moment?”

Eddie was too content to worry about them talking about him behind his back and drew a happy face on his slate, before hugging his plush. He felt… He felt really good. He got to talk about Richie and the things that made him happy and he loved doing that! Was that really what therapy was supposed to be like? Dr. Park was so nice to him. He really liked her.

He wasn’t scared of her. He didn’t feel the need to lower his gaze or to submit. He was just… fine. Curling up on the couch, he chewed on his plush’s ear, humming joyfully. He liked her. And he liked her glasses. As big as Richie’s. He wanted to trust her. Just like he trusted Richie.

Or… Or not exactly like that, maybe. He didn’t feel so warm and so good, thinking about her, not like when he was thinking about Richie. But she was nice. And it was easy to talk to her. Eddie trusted her. For the first time in his life, he could actually believe that therapy was good for him. That it would help him. That it would really help him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, can I say how much I love writing Eddie starting to crush on Richie? Because I love writing Eddie crushing on Richie xD. 
> 
> Eddie's therapy session is inspired by those I myself experienced. While I didn't use cards, my therapist once used figurines to help me to understand and express some of my feelings and she always took the time to ask me how I felt about things. She was also very compassionate. 
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter! Don't hesitate to comment, for positive or negative feedback, and/or leave kudos! Thank you so much for your support and have a nice day!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Here's the tenth chapter, I hope you'll like it!
> 
> Thank you for your support, you're the best c:.
> 
> Here are the trigger warnings for this chapter:
> 
> TW for internalized ableism  
> TW for mention of infantilization  
> TW for internalized homophobia  
> TW for self-harm  
> TW for mention of vomiting
> 
> I think that's all. Good reading!

Richie felt like he could finally breathe. He had done his best to stay calm and relaxed when he talked to Eddie about his upcoming therapy session, but in reality, he was probably as scared as his friend was. What if she wasn’t good for him? What if she hurt him in some way? What if she reminded him of the terrible stuff he went through and Richie couldn’t bring him back from that?

Sometimes, Eddie seemed so… far away. Hazy gaze, blank face, lost in his memories, where Richie wasn’t able to follow him. It was scary. Richie couldn’t imagine Eddie trapped in his thoughts, in his memory, unable to escape the horrors of his past. He deserved so much more than that. He deserved the world and Richie would do anything to give it to him.

Thankfully, his therapist had been right and Dr. Park was the right match for Eddie. The good impression she made on him when he called her was basically confirmed. It had been so great, watching Eddie slowly relax in her presence, getting chatty, writing all of these things about his life, about their friendship, about what made him happy. Actually believing her when she told him that he didn’t need his mom.

Eddie seemed really joyful knowing that he would see her again and Richie couldn’t be more satisfied. Eddie was looking forward to therapy and that wasn’t something he thought would happen, not so soon, not like that. Dr. Park was a miracle. And she seemed fully invested in Eddie’s recovery.

She talked to Richie and his parents after the session, giving them some pointers, letting them know that they should set up a schedule for Eddie and involve him in the process. Nothing too rigid, just something to help him feel less anxious and mostly know what to expect from his day.

After all, he spent the last five years following to a T the planning his mom had for him, almost always the same thing every day. Going “cold turkey” like that was probably one of the reasons he got so many panic attacks. They needed to set up something lighter, but still defined enough to reassure him. So, that’s what they were both doing, sitting at Richie’s desk, thinking hard.

To be honest, Richie had a hard time being focused, his eyes wandering towards Eddie, the way he would chew on his pen and his scrunchy face, trying his best to think about the things he would like to do and how to set them up in a weekly schedule. It was… It was so fucking cute. Richie just wanted to pinch his cheeks and let him know how awfully adorable he was. Tease him like he used to and laugh at his reaction. Feel his heart beating wildly in his chest while Eddie would be all pouty and angry, his favorite tiny furious gremlin…

But Richie didn’t. Because they needed to stay focused on the task at hand and because he wasn’t even sure Eddie would get angry at him or try to swat his hand away. He got used to people touching him when he didn’t want to and being unable to prevent them from doing so. It was too early for Richie to tease him and be sure that Eddie would know that he was just joking, that he could let him know that he was being the worst.

“Sooo, we basically established that you’re showering first thing in the morning every day, before eating your breakfast. Lunches and dinners are set up as well. We’ll try to set up your therapy sessions the same day every week, as much as possible. That means you have, like, so much free time at your disposal. Is there something you’d like to do, Eds?”

Richie knew that it wasn’t easy. That Eddie still wasn’t used to being asked what he wanted to do. That he forgot that his opinion, his needs mattered and that he wouldn’t just be thrown here and there, regardless of what he wanted. He was patient, letting Eddie think, basking in his cute face and his cute expression and everything that made Eddie Eddie. Shit, did he have a stupid smile? Richie checked out discreetly his face on his bedroom’s mirror and yep. Big dumb grin. He forced himself to look more serious, which wasn’t really working, while Eddie finally wrote on his “List of things that Eddie would like to do”.

_ Visit Mike. _

Richie smiled at this sight. Of course, the first thing Eddie knew he wanted to do was to see their friend. Mike would be overjoyed, knowing that. Ruffling Eddie’s hair, Richie nodded:

“Okay, we’ll put a pin on that. We’ll ask Mike which day would be the best for him and we’ll stick to it as much as possible.”

Richie grinned cheekily and added, next to what Eddie had written:

_ (bother Mike at his work) _

Eddie read Richie’s words and rolled his eyes, while Richie pulled out his best innocent expression:

“What? It’s for his own good! He’s still a junior librarian, learning the ropes! He needs to perfect his shushing technique, that’s like the 101 of being a librarian. Also, I definitely have to hide porn in some of his bookshelves. It would be like an egg hunt, but without the eggs. We could call it the Nut Hunt, right, Eds?”

The only answer Eddie greeted him with was a flick on the forehead. Richie groaned and massaged it, grumbling that his genius would never be recognized, while Eddie was trying very hard not to laugh and failing miserably. Richie loved seeing him like that, his face red, smiling and chuckling, slightly biting his lips to stop himself, but unable to do so. There was nothing prettier in this world than the sight of Eddie laughing. Richie was absolutely sure of that.

“So, it’s established that we’re going to annoy Mike at least once a week. Is there something else you’d like to do, Eds?”

Eddie shook his legs, probably trying very hard to come up with something. Richie doodled on his paper, letting him the time to think, doing his best to not pressure him too much. They had all the time in the world, Richie wasn’t about to get impatient with Eddie. It was important for him and if he managed to set up a whole schedule, it would be a big step.

Eddie poked Richie with his pen, letting him know that he just wrote something. Richie raised an eyebrow when he saw the single word that Eddie had written:

“Help? What do you mean, help?”

For Eddie, it seemed quite obvious, apparently, because he started to grimace and underlined the word several times. Richie shook his head, offering him a smile:

“You’re going to have to be more specific, Eddie Spaghetti. I’m still not a mind reader, unfortunately. I mean, I suppose I could, maybe if I went bald like Prof X. Maybe that’s the whole reason he’s a telepath, y’know? No hair to block his mind. Perhaps we should both shave our heads and we’ll have this telepathic bond...”

Eddie groaned and shook his head, with this face that let Richie know that if he dared to get close to him with an electric razor, he might lose a few teeth in the process.

“Okay, Okay, Eds, I get it. Not shaving your hair. We’re missing on quality telepathic time, though. Shame. You could share my dirty, dirty dreams and make your nights WILD. The last one featured Phoebe Cates, you wanna know what I did to her?”

Eddie pulled a disgusted expression and shook his head once again, letting out a grunt. He tapped on his paper with his pen multiple times, as if to say to Richie that he had to focus. And Richie happily obliged. To be honest, he would give everything so that Eddie would _ never  _ be able to hear his thoughts. How would he react if he knew that, indeed, Richie had quite the dirty dream featuring a member of the Gremlins movies cast, but that it definitely wasn’t Phoebe Cates?

Worse than that, what would Eddie say if he knew that he was the star of some of his wildest fantasies? If Eddie was paid every time he was featured in one of his dreams, he would be the richest man in the world.

Eddie the golden knight saving Prince Richie from the clutches of the terrible no-good Henry Bowers, Eddie the smooth spy seducing his Russian target Richie, Eddieana Jones embarking him on the wildest adventure and kissing Richie while he was taking care of his wounds…

Okay, Richie unquestionably had a problem. He was clearly obsessed and probably watched too many movies as well. But at least, these dreams were quite innocent. Some of them weren’t so much. Richie hated to think about them, to wake up out of breath, red and sweaty, mind filled with dirty images, and seeing Eddie just next to him, either sleeping or looking at him with worry, thinking that he was sick.

Richie was tainting him. And going to the bathroom and doing his best to stay quiet while he took care of his “problem” was making it worse. He always felt guilty afterward, sometimes so much that he would start to throw up. Fucking body. Fucking mind. Fucking feelings. Richie was really the worst…

A noise pulled him out of his thoughts. Eddie tried to get his attention, but didn’t dare to be louder, squirming on his seat, giving him this worried look that he always had when Richie acted in a way he couldn’t quite understand.

“Just daydreaming, Eds, don’t worry. That’s how my brain works. What’s up, you had another idea?”

Eddie nodded, showing him what he had written on his paper:

_ Want to learn ASL. Told me I could. _

Richie smiled at his idea:

“Yep, I told you that. I’d like to learn as well. We could have our secret language and no one would know what we’re talking about. I’ll be happy to be your translator as well. But I want a salary for my troubles.”

Eddie offered him a clueless expression, probably unsure if Richie was joking. Richie reassured him immediately, grinning widely:

“You’ll have to pay me in hugs, Eds. Like, you’ll have to hug me for every word I’ll translate, I ain’t cheap! It would probably be easier if you just hugged me all the time. You’d be my personal koala. That might make it hard for you to sign, though…”

Eddie finally got that Richie was teasing him and groaned once again, writing as quickly as he could, which made it barely legible. Richie had to focus real hard to be able to read his words:

_ I’m serious Richie. Want to learn! _

“Sorry, Eds. I know that you’re serious. I might not look like it, but I am too. I’ll learn with you. Maybe Mike’s library has a book or something about that? We’ll check it out, while I’ll try to find a course that we could both study. How does that sound like?”

Eddie smiled at him and Richie couldn’t be happier.

“I’ll try to see if I can find you a system to help you express yourself, maybe like the stuff Stephen Hawking has. The white slate or the old pen and paper are good and all, but it could be better, more comfortable for you. I noticed that it seemed painful for you to write, sometimes. Or difficult.”

Eddie nodded, writing on his paper, focusing on his task:

_ Hard to write. Can’t remember how to hold my pen. Hard to write and remember words I want to use at the same time. Hard when I’m upset. Feel stupid.  _

Richie grimaced while reading Eddie’s words, caressing his cheek when he started to hum nervously:

“You’re not stupid, Eds. I’ll keep telling you that as much as necessary because you’re definitely not stupid. Your mom, she hurt you real bad and you’re doing your best to cope. I can see that, Mom and Dad can see that and Mike as well. I’m really, really happy that you’re communicating. Doesn’t matter how, I just want you to find the best system for you. We’ll work on it, okay?”

Eddie nodded once again. He looked at Richie, with his big brown eyes that Richie loved so much, squirming on his seat. He started to write something, stopped himself, started again, humming under his breath. Richie didn’t want to urge him, but it was pretty clear that Eddie wanted to say something and wasn’t sure if he could or should.

“Hey, Eds, you can ask and say anything you want, okay? I’m not judging, I’m not going to be angry or anything like that. If you let me say all of my bullshit, it’s only fair that you can say what you want too, don’t you think?”

Eddie offered him a quick and shy smile, before writing and showing Richie his paper, avoiding his gaze:

_ Want to hug you.  _

Richie felt his heart missing a beat while reading Eddie’s words. He looked at him and Eddie seemed ashamed, eyes downcast, sucking nervously on his index finger. He probably needed to be soothed. It’s been a while since they started to work on this schedule and Eddie hadn’t moved from his seat since then. How could Richie say no to that?

He opened his arms widely, smiling cheekily, pulling a (terrible) robotic voice:

“Activating the Hugminator, part man, part machine, 100 % comfy. Can’t be reasoned with, can’t be bargained with, hugging you until you...”

Eddie sat on his knees and started to hug him. Richie shut up and his brain glitched out for a second. Eddie. On his knees. Hugging him. Okay. Okay. Okay. Richie realized that he still hadn’t closed his arms around Eddie and did so, trying his best to remain calm. Eddie was on his knees. Eddie was on his knees and hugging him.

“I… I knew my legs were super comfy. ‘Think you can still write like that?”

Eddie adjusted his position, his back glued to Richie’s chest, and started to write to show him that he could. Richie kept hugging him, rocking him slowly and softly. So close. So close. Richie did his best not to think about Eddie and how he was seated and how much he loved hugging him like that. He just had to think about something else to keep the heat away. Schedule. Mrs. K. Steve Buscemi. Just think about Steve Buscemi and not how Eddie was on his knees and how he was hugging him and how…

Richie shook his head. Eddie needed him to be soothed and he was getting distracted. Bad. Bad. Bad.

“Um… You’re doing okay, Eds? I’m not strangling you or anything?”

Eddie wrote on his paper and Richie had to be so close from his face to read what he had written. If he just turned his head a little, he could kiss him on the cheek. Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ and his fucking apostles. Steve Buscemi. Thinking about Steve Buscemi. Steve Buscemi dying in the wood-chipper in  _ Fargo _ . Yup. Gory as fuck. Definitely not sexy. Cool, cool, cool.

_ Feel better. Like it when you hug me. Best hugger. _

Richie laughed nervously:

“Yeah, I should probably get a prize for that. A… Anyway, we established that you’d like to visit Mike and to learn ASL. That’s good. Two things that you decided to do all alone. Is there something else you’d like to plan?”

Eddie nodded happily. Visibly, it was easier for him to think and to write when Richie hugged him tightly, offering him just the right amount of pressure. Good for him. Not so good for Richie, who was losing every single one of his brain cells minute after minute.

_ Movie nights. And help.  _

“Okay for the movie nights. I still have no idea what you mean by “help”, Eds.”

Eddie kept writing, very focused on what he was doing. Richie hugged him, feeling like he was going to die of a heart attack sooner or later.

_ Help around the house. Help Maggie and Wentworth. Help you too. Could clean our room. Starts to get messy. Don’t like things messy. _

“Oh, so that’s what you meant… That’s kind of you, Eds, but you don’t have to push yourself too much. You don’t really have to plan it either. If you want to clean our room, you can do it whenever you want, I’m not going to complain.”

Eddie turned his head towards him, contorting himself to show him that he was rolling his eyes. Richie chuckled at the sight:

“What? I’ll help too, I swear. It’s my room as well, I’m not going to let you do all the work. You’re not my maid, Eds. Although, I’m pretty sure you could pull off the uniform, if you… Ouch!”

Eddie flicked him on the nose and Richie groaned. That hurt… But he wasn’t going to complain. Eddie was getting more confident with him, as he used to when they were younger. Richie liked it. He liked it very much.

“I mean, if you want to plan a “we’ll clean our room” session per week, you can, I’ll happily oblige. You’ll have to guide me, though, I’m the worst for this kind of stuff. But I don’t think you have to or can quite plan a “going to help the Toziers” regularly. You should just ask, Mom and Dad would be more than happy to have you help them, no matter what they’re doing. And then they’ll tell me that I’m slacking off because you’ll be there, all perfect and helpful...”

Richie sighed dramatically and Eddie laughed. Caressing his friend’s hair, Richie allowed himself to rest for a few seconds against Eddie’s body. He loved the feeling. Hugging Eddie. Eddie being so close to him. He wanted to kiss him. He really wanted to kiss him… he could do it on the back of his neck. Pretend that it was just a stupid joke. He could… He could…

Richie shook his head. He was the worst. He was clearly the worst. Smiling weakly, Richie faked a painful expression, whispering to Eddie:

“Eds, my legs are getting a bit sore. Could you…?”

Richie didn’t even have to finish his sentence. Eddie immediately got up, writing a messy  _ Sorry  _ on his slate. Richie could clearly see that Eddie was about to blow this out of proportion and got up as well, hugging him tightly:

“Breathe, Eds. There’s nothing to get anxious about. I’m not angry, you didn’t hurt me, everything’s fine. If anything, I’m super proud of you. I didn’t have to suggest anything to you, you found all of those things that you wanted to do and you wrote them down. That’s fucking awesome, Eds. You’re the best.”

Richie detached himself from Eddie and repeated his last sentence. Eddie’s face went red and he started to hum and squirm, visibly unable to accept a compliment without feeling all shy about it. That was so cute. He was so cute. Richie smiled widely, caressing his hair:

“I’m serious, Eds. You’re awesome. You’re the best. I’m super, fucking proud of you.”

Eddie kept squirming and humming, getting more and more red, and Richie couldn’t just stop showering him with compliments. Not when Eddie was being so adorable, embarrassed and flattered as he was. Richie seriously doubted that he had been genuinely complimented a lot, those past years, and even before… Unless being told that he was a “good boy” counted. No, definitely not.

Richie kept complimenting him, more than glad to do so, until Eddie let out the happiest and loudest whine he ever had. They both fell silent and, for a second, Richie was really, really relieved that his parents weren’t home right now. Eddie seemed as awkward as he was, avoiding his gaze, hesitating before taking their blanket from the bed and hiding under it, sitting on the floor.

Breathe, Richie. Breathe. Don’t think about the noise Eddie just made. Don’t think about the fact that you loved it so much. Don’t think about the fact that “Dream-Eddie” will probably start to whine just like that in your drea…

Too late. A boner. He just had a boner. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Letting out weakly that he had to go to the bathroom, Richie ran away and slammed the door behind him, breathing erratically. He was the worst. He was definitely the worst.

And now, Eddie was awfully embarrassed and Richie couldn’t even be there to reassure him and tell him that it was fine, because it was not. Because he had the bodily reactions of a fucking teenager and just had a boner thinking about his wet dreams involving his best friend. But everything’s cool. Richie was certainly not a dirty pervert, no, no. He was just a sexual maniac. That was infinitely better, right?

“Calm the fuck down, you fucking asshole...”

Richie slapped himself, but that wasn’t enough to stop his body from reacting to what he just heard and imagined. Disgusting. Horrible. He was the worst. He was definitely the worst.

While he was taking care of his problem and hating himself for it, Eddie was still under the blanket, rocking back and forth, unable to believe that he just reacted this way to Richie’s compliments. He made everything awkward, when Richie was just trying to make him laugh. Why did he react like that? Eddie had no idea.

He wasn’t used to compliments. On the contrary. He chased after them in an almost desperate way, when his mother deigned to give some to him, usually to remind him that he was a good boy, that he obeyed well, that he wasn’t bothering anyone. But that wasn’t the case with Richie. Richie told him that he was the best, that he was awesome, all of those nice things. And more than that he was  _ proud  _ of him. Proud.

Eddie hid his face in his hands, unable to stop himself from humming audibly. Richie was proud of him. He was really proud of him. And Eddie felt all weird and hot and confused, thinking about that. He didn’t know if he liked it or not, this feeling that was invading him thinking about Richie and his words. The scene kept playing in his head, stopping right at the moment when Eddie  _ whined.  _ Why did he whine like that? Why? Fucking why?

Eddie left his refuge, frustrated and angry. They were having fun, why did he have to ruin everything? Why was he the way he was? Richie must have thought that he was so pathetic… And he was probably mocking him right now, not wanting Eddie to see him.

Eddie’s head started to hurt and he realized that he was slapping his forehead violently. Stopping himself was always the hardest, because this impulse felt weirdly good and helped him to get rid of his bad thoughts, because he deserved it, this violence, this punishment. He shook his head, whining painfully. He didn’t want Richie to come back and see him hurting himself like that. Richie deserved better from him.

Slowly, Eddie started to calm down and focused his efforts on cleaning Richie’s room. He had just finished making the bed when Richie came back, his face still slightly red. For a moment, Eddie thought that he was going to say something, parting his lips, but Richie changed his mind, offering quietly his help.

Eddie just accepted it. It was probably better if they never talked again about what just happened, whatever it was. It would be awkward and awful and Eddie just wanted to forget it as soon as possible. This confusing sensation, the whine that came out of his mouth from Richie’s praise… Better to just bury all of this and never think about it.

Eddie yelped when a pillow was thrown in his direction. He looked up and of course, Richie was grinning, already taking another pillow, clearly intending to target him. A part of Eddie wanted to be reasonable and to just keep tidying up the room while burying this embarrassing memory as deeply as possible. But Richie was smiling and he clearly started hostilities and Eddie wasn’t about to let him throw another pillow at him like that. Not if he could do it first!

And that’s how Maggie and Went found them, in a pillow fight, screaming and laughing, in the biggest mess they ever made of the room. Eddie couldn’t stop smiling while Richie’s parents tried to scold them for the pillows they just ruined. Richie was in the same state and it was pretty clear that Maggie and Wentworth themselves had a hard time acting seriously and not to laugh at their stupid antics.

Eddie definitely felt better. And he forgot about this weird event, that he would never talk about to Richie again. Yes, he totally forgot about it. He wouldn’t think about it in the middle of the night, looking at Richie’s sleepy face, wondering why he reacted so intensively to his words and his teasing. No, he wouldn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly have no idea why I wrote this chapter the way I did. Guess I was feeling cheesy and I just let my mind do its thing xD. I hope you still liked it. It was fun to write, honestly.
> 
> Fun fact: I definitely can't take compliments either, like Eddie. Not to his extent, but I'm definitely terrible at it.
> 
> Don't hesitate to comment and/or to leave kudos. I'm really curious to know what you thought of this chapter, it was genuinely funny and a bit weird to write xD. 
> 
> Have a nice day!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Here's the eleventh chapter, I hope you'll like it! Thank you for your support and your comments, they mean the world to me!
> 
> My keyboard kinda stopped working for a while, so it was pretty hard to write it, not gonna lie x). I had to smash my keys quite hard to be able to write for quite a long time. I hope you'll still like the chapter anyway!
> 
> Here are the trigger warnings for this chapter:
> 
> TW for infantilization  
> TW for ableism  
> TW for internalized ableism  
> TW for self-harm
> 
> Thank you! Good reading!

Eddie really liked being at the library. It was always something he fancied when he was a kid, but mostly because it allowed him to hide from his bullies. And it was more comfortable and less disgusting than having to hide in a bathroom stall… Now, he could just enjoy his time here, with Richie by his sides and Mike checking on them from times to times. He seemed very happy in his job, taking good care of his books and his establishment, investing a lot to make sure that his patrons would be satisfied with their care and what they’d find there.

Eddie was a bit envious, to be honest. He didn’t have this kind of thing in his life. The only thing he could hope was to get better and to move on from his traumatic past. But to what end? What did he want to do? Would he even have the possibility to do something? Who would want to hire someone like him?

But he did his best to bury this thought, along with the other ones he constantly tried to forget. Like what happened with Richie a few days ago, when they started to create his schedule and Eddie was just… the worst. He shouldn’t have climbed on Richie’s knees. He shouldn’t have made this weird whine when Richie complimented him. Normal people wouldn’t react like that, they wouldn’t ask this kind of things.

Eddie knew that Richie wasn’t expecting him to be normal, but still. Eddie couldn’t understand his own reactions and it was awfully frustrating. Even right now, he just wanted to get closer to Richie and to hug him, while they were both reading the book they found on sign language. Richie’s hugs just felt so good, they were clearly the best. Eddie felt peaceful and safe in his arms, as if nothing bad could ever happen to them as long as they were together, hugging and all.

But that was stupid. Eddie wasn’t a baby anymore. He didn’t need to be hugged and comforted, he could go through a day without forcing his friend to soothe him, especially in public. People would stare. They would laugh at him, maybe even at Richie. Richie didn’t deserve any of that. Eddie felt guilty about the things he forced his friend to handle. He should be having fun, not stay in the library with him, trying to learn some basic signs.

“Hey, Eds, look, I can spell out your last name!”

Richie proceeded to move his right hand quickly to do so, so quickly that Eddie wasn’t sure if he was bullshitting him or if he was really spelling it out. Richie slowed down his movement and Eddie was able to decipher every letter. K-A-S-P-B-R-A-K. Kaspbrak. Eddie gave Richie the thumbs up and Richie smiled widely:

“Come on, your turn, try to spell something! I know it’s not like a real lesson, but we can have some fun too. I’m still waiting for an answer from the teacher I contacted, so until then...”

Eddie stayed pensive for a few minutes, before starting to spell out a full sentence, focused on the book and its illustrations to get it right. Honestly, he hoped he would be able to learn words quite quickly. Spelling out everything seems like a terrible chore, perhaps even worse than having to write on his slate constantly…

“You… are… awesome. Oh, thanks, Eds! You’re the best too, my tiny angry gremlin.”

Richie proceeded to ruffle his hair and Eddie rolled his eyes, before spelling out another short sentence:

“F-U-C-K Y-O-U… Hey! Not cool, dude!”

Richie flicked Eddie on the forehead, who let out a whine and a laugh at his antics. Mike gave them a pointed look and Richie and Eddie did their best to calm down, in spite of the huge smiles on their lips and the terrible urge to laugh out loud. They did their best to focus on the book, trying to learn the alphabet by heart.

By no means learning this new language would be an easy feat. Eddie knew that very well. But from what he was understanding, it would allow him to be more expressive, where his writing often fell flat, unable to transcribe his feelings properly. Also, he could talk faster to Richie and he really missed that. The dynamic they used to have, years ago…

While Eddie was trying to spell out an “N”, having some difficulties to pull out this sign naturally and quickly, Richie gently tapped his shoulder to get his attention:

“I’m going to talk to Mike for a while. You’re okay with staying here and keep practicing?”

A part of Eddie wanted to shake his head and stay with Richie. He didn’t like to be alone, away from his best friend, even for a few minutes. And he had never been alone in a public setting before… He didn’t know what to say, honestly.

“I’m not far from here. You can still come looking for me if you need. It’s okay, Eds. But if you don’t want to, I’ll stay with you.”

Eddie bit his bottom lip, hesitating before writing on his slate:

_ Can go. Not moving.  _

Richie offered him a smile, ruffling his hair:

“Thanks, Eds. But you can move, you know? You can do anything you want. Well, I’d prefer it if you didn’t leave the library without warning me first, because I have a fragile heart and, as you know it, I’m an overbearing asshole, but anyway. Do what you want, Eds. You’re not glued to your chair and you’re not on a leash.”

Eddie nodded, even though he knew that there was no chance that he would leave the library all alone. He wasn’t even sure he could walk in Derry without getting lost at some point. He spent so little time in his own town, cooped up in his mom’s house, away from everything.

Besides, he didn’t want to see any reporters. Mike had been very clear that he wouldn’t let them enter in his library and disturb his patrons, but outside, nothing would prevent them from trying to get a good picture and a good story out of Eddie’s troubles. And he didn’t want to be featured in the newspaper again, especially if it was to slander the Toziers and the way they cared for him.

Waving to him, Richie went to find Mike and, just like he said, he was not far away. Eddie could totally see them and he’ll be able to reach out to them if needed. But he didn’t want to do that, not right now. Even though he was nervous without Richie by his sides, he knew that it was something he had to go through. He couldn’t just stay with Richie the whole day, minute after minute.

Richie needed his space and he didn’t have any since Eddie arrived. Eddie was always with him in some way and he was afraid that Richie might be annoyed by that, but that he didn’t dare to tell him so. Who wouldn’t be, after all? Eddie couldn’t do anything fun, he was just stuck at home or at the library, forcing Richie to be with him. Richie was energetic, loud, expansive, everything that Eddie wasn’t.

Did he use to go clubbing? Did he go to parties? Eddie had absolutely no idea what an adult like him or Richie was supposed to do in his free time. If he believed the movies he was watching, partying seems to be the most common activity. But it didn’t seem fun. Everyone was screaming and drinking and the places they were partying in seemed to be disgusting, filled with bacteria. Maybe there were drugs too? His mom always warned him about this sort of thing.

Eddie blushed, thinking back to the time where he actually tried marijuana. He hid his face in his hands, feeling awfully guilty. His mom wouldn’t have liked it at all. Good boys weren’t supposed to do this kind of thing. He… He…

“Hey.”

Eddie raised his head, feeling his heart skipping a beat when he realized who just talked to him. Greta Keene. She was holding a book about pharmaceutical stuff, chewing her gum as she always did. Disgusting habit. She was looking at him in a way he couldn’t quite comprehend and he just wanted to run away. But he didn’t. He was paralyzed on his chair, unable to move, waiting for the insults to come.

The fear was too strong and he pulled out his bear from his bag, hugging it tightly. He started to hum nervously when Greta took a step back:

“I.. uh… Just wanted to be sure you were okay. You were acting weird. I mean, you’re still weird right now and you’ve always been a weirdo, but… you know.”

Eddie couldn’t tell if she was mocking him or if she was genuine. He was afraid that he might start to talk to her and that she’d take this opportunity to laugh at his face and make him feel even smaller than he already was. Greta Keene was no Henry Bowers, but she always found the right words to hurt him and to hurt his friends. He couldn’t just tell her to fuck off like he used to.

She sat in front of him and Eddie curled up on his chair, putting his fingers between his lips in an anxious move.

“I’m not here to start a fight, Kaspbrak. Just making sure you’re okay. You were making these… noises.”

She was making noises too, why did she care? Eddie hated hearing her chewing her gum, it was disgusting and it made his skin crawl. He hugged his bear even tighter, trying to find the courage to tell her to go away. Eddie couldn’t drop his plush and he felt too nervous to pull out his fingers from his mouth long enough to write. He started to hum under his breath, rocking on his chair, when Greta finally said, sighing while doing so:

“I… I wanted to apologize.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow at her words. Apologizing? Greta Keene, apologizing? Really?

“What? Don’t look at me like that, dick! It’s not easy, so don’t make it even harder for me, asshole. I’m sorry for the shit I put you through, okay? I saw you on TV and I read the article they wrote about you and I couldn’t stop thinking about that, I don’t even know why. I kept thinking that I should have told you sooner about your meds, that I could have done something…”

Eddie couldn’t stop staring at her, while Greta was rambling, playing with her hair nervously. This was clearly something he didn’t expect. That he couldn’t have planned, no matter how long he worked on his schedule with Richie. Greta Keene, apologizing to him, putting her pride aside to do so. It was… It was so weird. Was he dreaming?

Putting his bear on the table, Eddie started to write on his slate, too anxious to do it properly. His writing was messy and he could see that Greta was struggling to read his words:

_ Why now? _

“I don’t know, dude! I… I feel bad, okay? I’m not going to apologize twice, so don’t ruin it for me! I… uh… what happened to you… I feel guilty. So… I hope you’re okay. That’s it.”

She was about to leave, but Eddie stopped her from doing so, shaking his head. He took his time to write down clearly, still sucking on his fingers. The whole situation stressed him out. Greta wasn’t being mean, but he didn’t expect it and he wasn’t ready for this kind of thing right now.

_ Not your fault. Mom did that. Not you. You were mean to my friends and me, but it’s not your fault what happened.  _

Eddie offered her a clumsy smile to support his words. She looked at him for a while, muttering that he was an idiot, before taking her leave. Eddie was about to go back to his book and focus on it when someone decided to bother him again. A child, this time. Eddie groaned, pulling on his hood, ignoring him as much as he could. Couldn’t they just leave him alone?

“Why d’you have a plush? You’re too old for a plush. I don’t have plush toys anymore and I’m seven!”

Fantastic. Eddie was really happy for this little asshole. Could he just get the fuck away? Eddie was trying to learn something and he definitely didn’t have the energy to deal with a brat right now. He did what he could to focus on his book, but the kid didn’t stop there, stealing his teddy bear from him. Eddie let out a furious screech and pushed the child, taking back his plush and hugging it while the kid was crying and running to his mother.

Alerted by the noise, Richie finally came back to Eddie, Mike at his sides, caressing his hair:

“Are you okay? What happened?”

Eddie was too pissed off to answer and he started to get scared when he saw the child and his mother coming to him. He didn’t mean to be violent, he just wanted his plush back. He wasn’t bothering anyone, he just wanted to be left in peace. Was it too much to ask? Eddie started to chew on his fingers, struggling against Richie when he tried to stop him to do so.

The mother, furious at first, gave one look at Eddie before her expression started to soften. She knelt down in front of her crying child, smiling and shushing him:

“Shh, Kevin, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. It’s Eddie Kaspbrak, you saw him on TV. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

“But… But...”

“He doesn’t look like it, but he’s just a child in his head. He didn’t mean it.”

Eddie couldn’t believe it. What this woman was just saying, right in front of him, as if he couldn’t understand her… As if… As if…

“Eddie’s not a fucking child, lady. Stop saying this bullshit to your kid.”

Richie immediately defended him and Eddie felt braver, just hearing him and being at his sides. He flipped off the woman, who let out an offended noise, before turning to Richie:

“What are you teaching him, exactly? I knew it, your folks are corrupting him, just like they said it in the news!”

“I didn’t have to teach him that, he can perfectly tell you to fuck off on his own. Now, you’re going to leave us the fuck alone, am I clear enough for you?”

The woman tried to have Mike take her side, but he just told her to step away and not disturb his patrons. She huffed angrily, holding her child’s hand and saying loudly to him:

“You see, Kevin? This is what will happen to you if you’re not a nice boy. You’re going to end up just like him.”

She left, but her words stayed with Eddie, flooding his mind, occupying every single one of his thoughts.  _ If you’re not a nice boy, you’re going to end up just like him.  _ Just like  _ him _ . There was so much contempt in her voice. So much disdain. But maybe she was right. Maybe it was his fault. He hadn’t been a nice boy. He had been bad so many times. He lied to his mom, he screamed at her, he tried to disobey her when she just wanted to take care of him, he… he…

“Eddie? Eddie, look at me, please! Eds!”

It wasn’t Greta’s fault. It wasn’t even his mom’s. It was him all along. Eddie hadn’t been nice and he had been punished. He deserved it. He deserved it. He deserved it. He barely felt the tears rolling down his cheeks and went limp in Richie’s arms when he started to hug him. Eddie was bad. And that’s why he was like that. That’s why he was stupid. That’s why he was making everyone suffer. That’s why…

“I can call someone if you need to...”

“Fuck off, Greta!”. Richie had just screamed and Eddie whined painfully. Too much noise. Too much light. Everything was just too much. Greta Keene answered something with an angry voice, but Eddie couldn’t understand her words anymore. He wasn’t nice. He wasn’t nice and that’s why he was the way he was. Barely a child. A stupid child who couldn’t understand a single thing.

Eddie slid from Richie’s arms and curled up on the floor, putting his fingers in his mouth and biting on them harshly. Richie helped him on his feet and caressed his cheek, hoping that he would relax his jaw like he usually did. But Eddie was still biting hard and Richie had no choice but to force his fingers out. Struggling with Eddie, he held him in his arms and brought him back to his car, sitting him on the passenger seat. By the time they arrived here, Eddie was screaming his lungs out, fighting Richie’s grip to try to hurt himself in any way possible.

He could hear his friend saying something to him, but Eddie couldn’t understand him. He couldn’t stand his touch right now and kept trying to squirm away, alternating between screams and whines. It burned, it hurt, too much, too much! But he didn’t have the words to say it, he couldn’t write it down and Richie didn’t understand him. Or maybe he did. Maybe he did know that it was hurting him and he thought that Eddie deserved it. He wasn’t wrong. Eddie was bad. Bad, bad, bad. He finally stopped squirming, tired by his useless efforts, allowing Richie to keep hurting him in the way he thought was right.

Richie hugged him tightly for a while, before letting him go. Eddie rested his head against the car’s window, his mind far away from anything he could see right now. He couldn’t stop playing this scene in his head, this woman’s words for her son. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s just a child in his head. A stupid child who couldn’t act like an adult. Why didn’t he just ask the kid to give him back his plush? Why did he… did he push him like that? Stupid. Mean. Retarded. Bad. Bad Eddie.

Richie didn’t bring him home like Eddie thought he would. Instead, they drove, drove for a while, without a proper destination in mind. Richie kept checking on Eddie, but Eddie wasn’t quite there to notice it. He unrolled Richie’s hoodie’s sleeves and was chewing on them, eyes glassy, exhausted expression on his face. Richie put on some music, at a low volume, and Eddie focused on it, humming under his breath.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when Richie’s words, his friend rambling, started to make sense to his ears. But, slowly, progressively, Eddie’s brain was able to understand Richie again, who was still driving and talking nonsense, probably trying to fill the silence and hoping to anchor Eddie in the real world:

“… and with all of that, I forgot our book, can’t fucking believe it! Bet you’re going to be angry at me. You’re going to give me your stinky eyes and I’m going to laugh and you’ll try very hard to pretend to not be amused and...”

“Hmm...”

Eddie let out a weak whine, making an effort to pull his head away from the window. His neck was hurting and he felt like he had been run over by a truck.

“You’re back, Eds!”

Richie barely raised his voice, but it was enough to make Eddie grimace in pain. Richie quickly apologized, turning off the music as well.

“Sorry, Eddie. Didn’t mean to hurt you. Are you… You’re with me, right? You’re okay?”

Eddie slowly nodded, yawning as well. He was so tired… And it was nighttime. He could see a full moon in the sky. How long had he been out of it? It was scary to think about…

“I thought it would be better if we just drove for a moment. It usually helps me to relax. And, uh, Mom and Dad would have probably worried and been too much in your face if we came back right away. So… uh… We’re in Bangor, I guess.”

Bangor… Eddie never went to Bangor. Until his mom moved out and forced him to go with her, he never left Derry. And even then, he had been drugged and stayed barely conscious for the whole trip, unable to see his surroundings.

“Pretty nice, uh? Better than Derry. It’s no New York or Los Angeles, but it’s cool, I guess. I’ll take you there when you’ll feel better. We could have some fun together.”

Eddie nodded silently, fiddling with his seat-belt. He felt ashamed. It was late and Richie must have driven for hours. He probably had better things to do than that. If only Eddie stayed calm at the library, if he didn’t act like a child, everything would have been fine. But he just ruined their time together, as usual.

“Eds… What this lady told you, it’s not true. You know that, right? You’re not a child and… and it’s not because you’re not nice that all of that happened. Your autism, it’s something you’re born with and it makes you who you are. My best friend. You’re fine just the way you are.”

Richie cleared his throat, tapping on the wheel with his fingers. Eddie caressed briefly his hand, causing him to jump on his seat, before returning him a soft smile.

“Your troubles, what you went through, it’s not because you’re “not nice” or any bullshit like that. Your… Your mom wanted to keep you close and to have people praising her for taking care of you, so she kept hurting you under false pretense. You… You’re still here in spite of that and you’re fighting and you’re getting better. You’re… You’re so fucking brave, Eddie. I… I really admire you.”

Eddie felt his heart beating faster and faster at Richie’s words. Even if he could speak now, he wouldn’t even know what to say. He was just… very happy. And warm. And confused. Eddie sucked on his index finger, letting Richie ruffling his hair:

“Okay, if you want to, we could go to a drive-thru, order some food and eat at a pretty nice spot. No one will bother us there. Or we could just go home and I’ll cook you some pasta. First option or second option?”

Eddie hesitated for a while, before letting Richie know that he preferred the first option. He would like to stay alone with him a bit more. Even if he couldn’t really talk to him right now. Richie smiled at him and drove them to a fast-food, ordering for the both of them, Eddie being totally bewildered by the choices that were offered to him.

He pulled out a disgusted face at their greasy takeout bag and Richie laughed:

“Yeah, sorry, dude. Not really top-notch cooking. But it tastes better than it looks, I swear.”

After a few more minutes of driving, Richie finally stopped the car and got out, signaling to Eddie that he could do the same. His mouth agape, he could only admire the viewpoint that Richie wanted to show him. From where they were, they could see all of Bangor, full of life and color at his hour of the night. Eddie sat on the bench that was facing this beautiful view, waiting on Richie to sit next to him. After turning on his car’s lights, to prevent them from being in complete darkness, Richie joined Eddie, the greasy bag in hand.

“Cool, right? I used to come here sometimes, when I wanted to be left alone for a while. I watched the city living and I could imagine that I wasn’t alone. That I had my place somewhere.”

Eddie turned his head towards Richie, worried, but Richie was smiling softly. His expression got even more joyful when he looked at Eddie, pulling out his burger from his bag:

“Here! It’s full of cheese and super sweet, I’m sure you’re going to love it.  _ Bon appétit _ , my dear friend!”

Richie bit on his own burger and Eddie, in spite of his hesitation, did the same. Richie was right. It was good. Really good. He truly needed that, after what he went through.

Richie couldn’t stop talking, barely pausing to eat, and Eddie kept listening, his eyes drifting from the viewpoint they shared to Richie, looking at him with awe. Richie always knew how to make him feel better. And Eddie loved listening to him and seeing him smile. He could only hope that he would be able to be there for him, just like Richie had been so far...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally introduced Greta! I didn't really know when she would come into play, but I knew that I wanted to write her in this story. I'll probably use her character more in future chapters, I always felt like there was something interesting to do with her.
> 
> Writing the mother and her son was so infuriating, but it's the kind of bullshit I witnessed all too often. Neurotypicals and able-bodied people tend to forget so easily that the disabled person they're using as a prop in their discussion and stuff is someone with their own life, their feelings and that they can perfectly understand what people are saying about them.
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter. My faulty keyboard made it quite hard to write, so I hope it's not something you felt while reading it. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading, don't hesitate to leave comments and/or kudos! See you soon!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Here's the twelfth chapter of this fanfic! Geez, I just realized I've written 36 chapters for this story so far, I've written more in a few months than in the last few years of my life... I really have to thank you for that, your support encourages me to keep writing and I'm filled with ideas! Really, thank you for your support.
> 
> Here are the TW for this chapter:
> 
> TW for internalized homophobia  
> TW for mention of homophobia  
> TW for emetophobia  
> TW for mention of self-harm  
> TW for ableism  
> TW for infantilization
> 
> I think that's all. Don't hesitate to tell me if I missed something. Good reading!

Richie didn’t like leaving the house without Eddie. His car felt… empty. He put on some music to distract himself, but he kept looking at the passenger’s side, expecting to see Eddie flapping his hands happily and rocking on his seat, trying to follow the music’s rhythm. He usually fell short, but he was too cute for Richie to even try to joke about it. Not to mention that Eddie could actually think that it was a big deal and start to feel embarrassed. If there was one thing that Richie didn’t want to happen, it was to nourish Eddie’s lack of self-esteem.

Not that he would need a lot of effort to do so. A single word, a single stare and all of Richie’s compliments, as genuine as they were, were forgotten. Eddie’s confidence was crumbling and he was diving into this unsettling headspace where Richie couldn’t reach him. And he had to start all over again. To tell Eddie that he wasn’t stupid, that he wasn’t retarded, that his mom wasn’t right, that he was not a child, and so on. And Eddie believed him. Until he didn’t.

Richie sighed, tapping nervously on his steering wheel. He would give anything to find the magic words to convince Eddie of his worth once and for all. Hell, if the Devil told him that he’d have to do his coming out in front of the whole town for it to happen, Richie would do it. No backsies. But of course, Richie could think this kind of thing because he knew that it was just an imaginary scenario. That it would never happen.

He was too much of a coward to really do this kind of thing. He wanted to throw up just thinking about coming out to his friends or his parents. Or, even worse, Eddie. Not even telling him that he loved him, just… just that he was fucking gay. Richie had sincerely no idea how Eddie would react. And he couldn’t test the waters, how was he supposed to do that naturally?

“Hey, Eds, you know about the birds and the bees, right? What about the bees and the bees, uh, if you’re catching my drift?”

Richie had a joyless laugh, shaking his head:

“Yeah, right. As if. Beep Beep Richie.”

He wasn’t even sure Eddie was aware that sexual orientation was a thing and that you could be something else than straight. With how much Sonia Kaspbrak kept him away from the world, Richie wouldn’t be surprised by that. But maybe she filled his head with homophobic bullshit… After all, she did call him a dirty queer, in front of Eddie. And, he thought with some bitterness, Eddie never tried to tell him that she was in the wrong for that.

Maybe he forgot. Maybe he just thought that his mom was right, regardless of what she was saying. Or maybe he thought that gay people were dirty and that his friend couldn’t possibly be one of them. Eddie hated dirty stuff, after all. He would absolutely loathe him if he knew. The idea crossed Richie’s mind and he was forced to stop his car, throwing up as soon as he opened his door.

Shivering, he wiped his mouth, popping a chewing gum between his lips. Fuck… He was going to be late at his therapy session. Great. And he didn’t buy a new phone yet, so no way to warn his therapist. Awesome. Everything was just fantastic. Richie slammed his door and kept driving, slightly above the speed limit, hoping to catch up and arrive on time at his session.

Eddie would freak out if he was with him. Richie would never do that if he was in the car with him, anyway. He cared about his friend, wanted him to feel safe, to be safe. And himself? Not so much, to be honest… The only reason Richie kept looking forward to the next day was because Eddie was back with him and needed him. Eddie was his whole fucking world. And he’ll never be able to tell him that.

But he wasn’t planning on talking about that with his therapist. Not right now. But he still had to address the dreadful matter, to make sure that his therapist’s objectives were synced up to his: Richie had to come out. Fuck, he had to come out to his fucking therapist. And he never did that before. Except with Mike, but it was a freaking accident and he had a panic attack over it.

Not even with Connor Bowers. Connor was the one who reached out to him after this awful afternoon at the arcade, who apologized for his cousin’s words and came out to him, asking him to keep the secret, begging him to not tell anything. Richie just answered that he understood. He didn’t even come out properly to someone who just told him that he was gay. How was he supposed to talk about his sexual orientation to his fucking therapist?

Richie arrived just in time, running to the waiting room, sitting on a chair and shaking his legs wildly. He wanted to get the fuck out and never come back. What was he expecting exactly? That Dr. Norton would be like this super LGBT ally and support him fully? That he wouldn’t think that he was just c _onfused_ and probably needed some real experience with the l _adies_ to change his mind? That it might explain his whole issues, that he just had to get laid with a woman and _voilà,_ he would suddenly become a functional human being? Yeah, it was probably more like it. 

His appointment took place five minutes late, which made Richie think that he really shouldn’t have driven so fast. Eddie would have scolded him endlessly if he had witnessed it… But Eddie wasn’t there and thank fuck, because Richie was about to reveal his biggest secret and he would never be able to do that if his friend was by his side. 

Richie barely managed to smile at his therapist, sitting on the couch. His palms were sweaty, his legs agitated and he had troubles to breathe properly. Fuck, he was a mess. Was he going to throw up in his therapist’s office at their second session? Richie hoped that it wouldn’t be the case.

“Are you okay, Richie? You’re very pale. Should I call someone?”

Richie shook his head. Breathe. Fucking breathe, you fucking coward! He just had to say a few words, not recite the entire fucking pledge of allegiance! Just a few, simple words. 

“I… uh… I have to… I need to…”

He was stammering. Richie was fucking stammering. Should he try on one of his voices to say it? Hide behind one of his masks? Oh yeah, Richie, just fucking do it, come out while imitating Bugs Bunny, it’ll be just perfect! _What’s up, doc? Yeah, I love carrots_ , _not the vegetables, if you get what I mean…_

Richie couldn’t stop the nervous laugh that came out of his lips. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. He didn’t know what he wanted. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Richie, you’re in a safe space here. What you’re saying in my office stays in my office. I’m your therapist, I’m here to help you, not to judge you. Take the time you need and if you decide to not talk about it, whatever it is, just let me know. Don’t worry, I’m very, very good at handling awkward silence.”

Richie chuckled anxiously at Dr. Norton’s words. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Fiddling with his glasses, he parted his lips once, twice, unable to let out the words. Until he finally managed to say them, eyes on the ground, shaking and sweating:

“I’m gay.”

Once the words were out of his lips, Richie realized that he never said them before. He called himself a fag, a dirty queer or a fairy, using the insults thrown at him, but he never said out loud that he was gay. And frankly, he didn’t know how he felt about the whole thing. He was a mess, that was for sure.

Laughing nervously, he started to ramble, twisting his fingers painfully:

“Yeah, I’m gay, like really, really gay. I fantasize about David Bowie’s fucking tights in the movie “Labyrinth” and I would have likely sacrificed a baby to follow him into his kingdom. That’s how gay I am. And I’m not confused. Not about that anyway. I’m not sick, I’m not going to change, that’s how it is, so if you think otherwise, it’s best if we never see each other again, Doc!”

Richie finally stopped himself, slightly wheezing, waiting for his therapist’s reaction. For him to say that he was in the wrong, that he was obviously confused, that his mother’s education was too “girly” or another kind of bullshit like that. But Dr. Norton just gave him a water bottle and offered him a quiet smile:

“I get it, Richie. You’re gay. I’m not paid to try to turn you straight and, frankly, I’d prefer to quit my job immediately than to have to do that. Was it the first time you came out to someone? Unless you always feel the need to tell people about your understandable crush on David Bowie...”

Richie was about to cry, but he suddenly couldn’t stop laughing. He was almost hysterical, unable to breathe. Probably the nerves, but fuck. Dr. Norton was _funny._ And he was supportive. Fuck, he was supportive… Was he dreaming? He had to be dreaming…

“I… Jesus fuck. Phew… Just… Just a minute...”

“Take your time, Richie. We’re not in a rush.”

Richie smiled gratefully to his therapist, calming himself down, drinking the water the man gave him. He came out. He fucking came out, for the first time in his life. Was it weird that he wanted to celebrate it and, at the same time, to crawl into a fucking hole and just die there, never to be found again? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Okay, I’m… I’m slightly less hysterical. I guess. So, yeah, that was my first time. I mean, I have a guy in my town who’s gay and who knows I’m gay. And there’s my friend Mike, to whom I kinda blurted out that I love E… someone.”

Richie wasn’t ready to tell that it was Eddie. Dr. Norton saw him and probably had his own image of him in his head. Richie was ashamed of that, but he was scared that Dr. Norton would judge him for his feelings. That he would think that he was disgusting to think this kind of thing about _Eddie Kaspbrak._ Richie remembered this awful woman’s words in the library, a few days ago, assuming things about Eddie’s mental age. He didn’t want to hear his therapist say something like that. Not when he finally felt that someone could help him. Support him fully.

“Oh, and there was my school therapist. I mean, I didn’t tell him that I was gay. But, being the naive twelve years old that I was, I told him everything about my very cute classmate that I couldn’t manage to talk to and that I really, really wanted to be friend with. He immediately proceeded to tell me that it was wrong, that I shouldn’t love Ed… my male classmate like that and that we will need to work on that. I did my best to convince him that I was very much into boobs, because I was terrified that he would send me to a conversion camp.”

It was easy to talk to Dr. Norton. Too easy. Eddie’s name kept trying to slip past his lips and Richie wasn’t stupid enough to believe that the man wouldn’t have put two and two together by now. He sighed, hiding his face in his hands:

“Yeah, I love Eddie Kaspbrak. Come on, tell me that I’m a fucking deviant for that. I can take it.”

He couldn’t. But he would never tell him that. Raising his head, he dared Dr. Norton to say him that, but the man stayed peaceful and still. Fuck, was he a fucking Jedi or what?

“Why are you telling yourself these things, Richie?”

“Because they’re true! Because I’m disgusting! Because some people _know_ just by looking at me and they… they throw this stuff at me. And… And they’re right. Eddie deserves better than that. He deserves a friend, not… not a fucking creep.”

Richie wanted to cry. But he tried very hard not to. He was tired of crying. Of feeling sorry for himself. He didn’t deserve it anyway.

“You can’t control what people are saying about you. But you can control what you’re thinking about yourself. And you need to be kinder to you, Richie. You’re not a creep. You’re not disgusting. What you just did was very brave and you should be proud of yourself.”

Richie chuckled joylessly:

“Fuck, it’s like I’m hearing myself talking to Eddie...”

“Maybe you should start talking to yourself like that as well. Positive thinking can be really helpful in the long term. For every negative thought you have for yourself, I want you to think something positive as a counter-attack. You can say it out loud if it helps.”

Richie imagined himself claiming loudly that his hair was soft, that he liked being tall, that he loved his own jokes or that his dick was the hugest and he laughed at the idea:

“That sounds ridiculous, Doc.”

Dr. Norton shrugged, always keeping this calm expression on his face that helped Richie to feel less anxious about all of this:

“You’ll probably feel awkward about this for a while. But Richie, I’d really like you to do this exercise seriously. It’s obvious that you’re not used to think nice things about yourself and I’ll never be able to help you fully if you keep entertaining self-loathing thoughts. If your family and friends could be supportive as well, it would...”

“Oh, yeah, don’t worry. My mom keeps bothering me if I dare to say something slightly negative about myself and my dad is the same. Mike’s giving me The look and Eddie… Well, Eddie is idealizing me, that’s obvious. And he gets pissed off when I say bad stuff about myself.”

Dr. Norton nodded at his words, while Richie was playing nervously with the water bottle the man gave him. They were going to talk about it, right? So soon…

“Do you want to talk about Edward Kaspbrak, Richie?”

Richie shrugged, a sad smile on his lips:

“Not really, Doc. I mean, yes. I want to talk about him all the fucking time. But right now… I don’t know.”

“I won’t press the subject if you don’t wish me to do so. But I think you need to talk about it, Richie.”

He did need to talk about it. With someone who could understand. Who, he hoped, might not judge him. It was gnawing him, devouring him from the inside. Richie loved Eddie. He loved him so fucking much. And he could never let him know that.

“I… uh… I had this huge crush on Eddie when I was twelve. I didn’t really talk to him until we were fifteen though. We were in the same class, so I finally had the opportunity to do so and it just… clicked, I guess.”

Richie smiled fondly, his legs shaking slightly less while he was remembering it all:

“I spent some of the best months of my life with him. He was weird, but the perfect kind of weird. Before everything that happened to him, Eddie was a fucking chatterbox and he kept talking, talking, talking. I loved to tease him because he would always react, always retort, it could just last for hours. But there was his mom. I mean, I’m guessing you saw the documentary, maybe the talk show?”

Dr. Norton nodded, encouraging him quietly to keep talking and Richie did so, fiddling with his glasses:

“She… She made him believe that he was fragile and that the entire world was out to get him. My friends and I, we were the ones who taught him how to swim because his mom never let him go near a swimming pool. My dad taught him how to ride a bike. He was fucking fifteen, can you imagine? She...She messed with him. So fucking badly. And now… Now, he’s...”

Richie didn’t have the words. His mind was filled with thoughts, memories. He was hearing Eddie screaming his lungs out, humming anxiously, chewing harshly on his fingers. He was seeing him struggle when Richie tried to stop him from hurting himself, crumpling on the floor in despair for a whole hour because he couldn’t decide what to eat for his breakfast and waited for Richie to punish him. Fuck. Fuck.

“I… I still love him. Eddie is still Eddie, even with everything that happened to him. I love him, but I’m never going to tell him. He needs a friend and I’ll be this friend. Until he doesn’t need me anymore.”

If it ever happened… Richie wasn’t sure Eddie could live on his own one day and he certainly would never leave him in an institution or anything like that!

Richie was scared of Dr. Norton’s reaction. Scared that he might tell him that Eddie was basically a _child_ and that loving him meant that Richie was some kind of pedophile or something like that. Richie would argue to the end of the world for Eddie’s sake, but… but he would probably start to believe Dr. Norton if he told him that he was deviant. That he was fucking disgusting.

“I think you should be honest with Edward. Not right away, because, from what I was able to gather from our encounter, I don’t think he’s ready to react reasonably to that, in one way or another. But I still think you should tell him, Richie.”

Richie looked at his therapist, mouth agape. He started to scrutinize his surroundings, forcing a laugh:

“There’s a hidden camera somewhere, right? You can’t possibly believe this bullshit, Doc.”

“There are no hidden cameras, Richie. And I’m serious. From what you just said to me, it’s obvious that your feelings won’t just go away on their own. Keeping a secret like this for so long… It’s going to hurt you, Richie. It’s probably already hurting you.”

“But what if he hates me? What if he thinks that I’m disgusting?”

Richie wanted to throw up once again, just thinking about it. Eddie telling all of those nasty things to him… He couldn’t bear it. He would rather…

“Then, it will be on him, Richie. What he’s thinking about you has no impact on the person that you are. Your worth is not evaluated by your friend’s feelings towards you. If he’s unable to accept you as you are, you have absolutely no obligation to stay by his side.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying. He _needs_ me! I don’t care if he fucking hates me, he _needs_ me. He has no one else besides me, he...”

“And that’s exactly why I won’t advise you to talk to him about your feelings yet. None of you are ready for that.”

Dr. Norton took a deep breath and Richie did the same. He was shaking, getting irrationally angry. He needed to calm down…

“How often are you spending time alone or with your friends without Edward by your side?”

“I…”

Richie bit his bottom lip. He didn’t want to talk about that. He didn’t want to hear what his therapist had to say, just like he didn’t want to listen to Mike previously. Even though he knew they were both right.

“He needs me.”

“That’s not what I’m asking, Richie. Do you want to give me an answer?”

No, he really didn’t want to! But… But he had to be brave. Eddie needed him and not the mess that he currently was. Richie sighed.

“I… I went for a run when I was pissed off, a few weeks ago. And… And I guess that’s it.”

Eddie was always with him. In the house, out of the house. He was by his side. And Richie couldn’t be happier about that. He missed his friend so much. He was so afraid of losing him definitely…

“You need to have your own life, Richie. Things that you’ll do without Edward and that he could do without you. Regardless of the status of your relationship with him, what you’re sharing now might evolve in unhealthy codependency, for the both of you. If you don’t allow him some space, he’s never going to be able to recover from what he went through. And you won’t either.”

He knew that. Richie fucking knew that. But just being here, without Eddie, was so fucking hard… He kept thinking about him, wondering if he was doing okay, if he needed him, if he was having a meltdown. Maybe he was waiting for Richie to help him and he wasn’t fucking there for him? Richie was the one who knew how to hug him, how to comfort him, how to… how to…

“… I’m fucked up, Doc. I need help.”

Smiling gently, Dr. Norton shook his head:

“You’re not “fucked up”, Richie. That’s not a proper diagnosis. But you do need help, like a lot of people, and I’m here for that.”

Getting up from his armchair, the man approached Richie, giving him a card:

“Here. On this card, there’s a phone number and an address for an LGBT center, endorsed by EqualityMaine. I think it would do you some good to talk to people who can fully understand what you’re going through, in a safe space.”

Richie took the card, looking at it skeptically, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he had in his hands:

“Do you really have so many gay patients that you feel the need to constantly have this card on you, Doc?”

Dr. Norton chuckled at his words:

“We’re not here to talk about me. I’m your therapist and my role is to listen to you and guide you. And I really think it would do you some good if you went there. You might make friends. Give it a shot.”

Richie was torn apart. On one hand, he really, really wanted to go there. To meet those people. To finally feel like he belonged somewhere. But on the other hand… That would mean that he’ll have to spend less time with Eddie. And he’d probably have to lie to him as well about what he was doing. No way he would tell him that he was going to an LGBT center. Did Eddie even know what LGBT meant? Fuck, Richie couldn’t be sure of that…

“I’ll… give it a thought, I guess. Fuck, I’m exhausted. Is it going to be like that every time I’ll see you? I’ll have to invest in a “chauffeur”, if that’s the case. My own personal Alfred Pennyworth.”

“Not necessarily. Sessions can be quite intense, sure. I’ll advise you to get some rest if you can before taking the wheel. There’s a very nice coffee shop just in front of my office. Their cappuccino is to die for.”

Richie snorted at his therapist’s words:

“What? They’re paying you to advertise them? Then we have to end our collaboration right now, because I can’t trust a capitalist sell-out like you to treat me properly.”

“You’re wounding my inner hippy, Richie. Anyway, when are you free for another session?”

After they established their next appointment, the therapist reminding him that he needed to practice positive thinking, Richie walked out of the building, feeling exhausted, but kinda relieved. Smiling at the sight of the coffee shop, he did order their cappuccino and, true to Dr. Norton’s words, it was really to die for. Playing distractedly with the card that his therapist gave him, Richie sighed:

“… Guess I’ll have to give it a try.”

Without Eddie. Fuck. He missed him already. He hoped he would be okay. Richie really, really wanted to finish his order quickly to go back to him as soon as possible. But he stayed strong and sipped his drink at a normal pace. Totally normal pace… Okay, slightly faster than he should. But at least, he just didn’t dump the whole thing to drive at an ungodly speed to go back to Eddie, right?

A sad laugh escaped his lips and Richie hid his face in his hands, feeling profoundly despaired.

“… I’m so fucked up. Jesus, I’m so fucked up...”

Positive thinking, positive thinking. He… uh… He was… eloquent, probably? Fuck, that was just weird… Weird and awkward. Maybe it’ll get better, when he’ll get used to it. Maybe not...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of this chapter! I'm honestly really happy with how it came out. I wanted to talk about Eddie and Richie's relationship in this fanfic for a while and I finally can do it in the story. Because, as cute and wholesome it might seem, the fact that they're always together is not something to encourage in the long term. They both need their space, especially to recover properly from what Eddie went through. 
> 
> Codependency is often romanticized and I wanted to do otherwise in my fanfic, especially since Eddie is visibly disabled and people will tend to assume his needs and his troubles for him, even Richie. Eddie needs to have his own space and to do things on his own, to prove to himself that he can do it and that his mother was wrong about him. 
> 
> Totally unrelated, but it turned out that my keyboard was just a bit dirty. I cleaned it up and voilà, no more issues! So this chapter was way easier to write. I hope you liked it!
> 
> Don't hesitate to leave comments and/or kudos! I'm really curious to see what you thought about it. See you soon!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Here's the thirteenth chapter! I hope you'll like it. Thank you so much for your support! I don't know if I'll still be stuck at home next week, so I'm writing as much as I can for now, since I'll have to update slower when I'll go back to work. 
> 
> Here are the Trigger Warnings for this chapter:
> 
> TW for internalized ableism  
> TW for mention of ableism  
> TW for self-harm  
> TW for infantilization 
> 
> I think that's all. Good reading!

Richie had just left the house to go to his therapy session. It was the first time Eddie and he would be separated, since his arrival. And Eddie was nervous. A part of him wanted to go with Richie. Really wanted to be with him. But he didn’t say anything when Richie let him know that he would go to his session on his own this time. Eddie accepted it, hugging tightly Richie before allowing him to go.

And now, he was waiting. Sitting on the stairs, in front of the entrance door, his plush on his knees, he was rocking slowly back and forth. What could he do otherwise? Richie wasn’t there. And Eddie always followed Richie wherever he went. So he might as well just wait for him. Eddie could be very patient when he wanted. He had to learn that the hard way.

To be honest, he was a bit scared to do something without Richie around. Richie let him know when things were wrong or right. Eddie could always confirm with him if he wasn’t sure of something and Richie always answered. But Richie wasn’t there. So, Eddie would rather get bored a little and wait for him than to do something bad. He was being nice.

He waited like that for five full minutes until Maggie went to find him, offering him a gentle smile:

“Richie won’t be back for at least two or three hours. Maybe more, depending on the traffic. Do you want to do something in the meantime? It’s going to be quite long, waiting on the stairs for him to come back.”

Eddie shook his head. He consciously wrote on his slate, showing it to Maggie:

_Waiting. Don’t want to be bad. Richie tells me what I can do. Need him._

Maggie bit her bottom lip while reading his words. Giving him a concerned look, she sat next to him on the stairs, asking him with a soft voice:

“Eddie, honey… You know that you can do things when Richie is not around, right? He’s… He’s not expecting you to wait for him and stay still until he’s back.”

_Didn’t tell me what to do. Don’t know what to do._

“Richie doesn’t have to tell you to do anything, Eddie. And neither do I. Or Went. Or anyone else. You’re free to do whatever you want. Well, as long as you don’t wreck our house, but I doubt that was your intention, right?”

Eddie shook his head, pensive. It was just weird. Not being told what to do. His mom never left him completely on his own. When he wasn’t in one of his therapy sessions, he was staying in his room and writing a letter to Richie. Or he was with her, while she talked to lots of different people about him and how hard it was to raise him. He took a lot of naps as well. Time flew faster when he did that and he knew that his mother wouldn’t think that he was doing something bad.

As a result, he was completely lost now. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be alone in Richie’s room or with Maggie. He didn’t know if he wanted to read or to watch TV. He really wanted Richie back, though. And not to bother anyone, as much as possible.

Eddie flapped his sleeves nervously. He asked Richie this morning if he could wear one of his hoodies, knowing that his friend would leave him there. It smelled like Richie. It felt like Richie. It was slightly comforting, at least. He wasn’t totally gone, that way. He kept looking at the door, allowing Maggie to caress his hair when she let him know that she wanted to do so.

“Honey, Richie will come back, if that’s what you’re worried about. I know that it’s the first time you’re not together and that it might be hard on you, but it’s not going to be easier if you’re just keeping yourself unoccupied while he’s gone.”

She suddenly seemed to have an idea, her face illuminated, and she got up from the stairs, holding her hand towards Eddie:

“What if we prepared something for his return? Went will be happy as well. He called earlier and he seemed to have a rough day.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, confused by Maggie’s words. Preparing something… for Richie?

_I don’t understand._

“I mean, we could cook something for them. Together. I have already responded to my fair share of job offers and, frankly, I could use the distraction. Would you like to help me, Eddie?”

Of course, Eddie would like that! He even wanted to put on his schedule allotted time to help Maggie and Went, even though Richie told him that it wouldn’t be quite practical. But… But Eddie had never learned to do such a thing. Cooking. He remembered vaguely helping Maggie five years ago, during the sleepover, but that was it. And he… He was really clumsy. Even more than before.

Humming nervously, he wrote on his slate, showing it to her with an ashamed expression on his face:

_Don’t know. Going to make mistakes. Break something. Not gonna be good. Bad for Richie._

And Eddie wanted to be good for him. If he were to cook something for Richie, it had to be perfect. Eddie would never give something to Richie that wasn’t good enough for him. And since he didn’t know how to cook, it would be disgusting. And ugly. And terrible. Richie deserved better than that. He had to do better than that. He was being bad. Useless. Stupid.

Eddie slapped his forehead harshly, grunting frustratingly. Maggie took his hand in hers, gently playing with his fingers, smiling to him:

“We’re just going to have fun together, Eddie. It doesn’t have to be a perfect dish or anything like that. I know that you’re not used to cooking. I’m here to teach you. If you don’t learn something in the first place, you’re never going to be able to do it. It’s okay if we make mistakes. It doesn’t matter.”

Eddie didn’t understand that. It wasn’t okay if he made mistakes. Mistakes meant that he was being bad. And being bad meant that he was being punished. And he didn’t want to be punished. He tried really hard to be good, for Richie, for Maggie, for Went. They were so nice to him. That’s the least he could do. Be good and nice. Not bad. Not bad.

Eddie hummed louder, getting more and more nervous. He needed Richie. Richie would tell him what to do. Richie knew these things. His mommy wasn’t there anymore and Richie was. But he wasn’t there either right now and Eddie was lost and confused. Maggie helped him up, hugging him tightly.

“It’s okay, Eddie. We can still do something else. I just thought that you might like to prepare a surprise for Richie. But we can watch TV or play cards or anything you want, honey. There is no wrong answer. I’m not going to punish you whatever you choose to do. Even if you want to stay on the stairs and wait for Richie.”

Eddie put his fingers in his mouth, sucking on them anxiously. It was stressful for him, knowing that there was no bad answer. How was he supposed to make a choice if he didn’t have clear guidelines? With his mother, he knew what to expect. He knew that doing something was either leading him to be called a “good boy” and be given treats or that he would be bad and punished. That they would take away his stuffed toy, his comics, make him eat things that he would gag on, or even hit him. He deserved it, after all.

But right now? Right now, he didn’t know. He wanted someone to decide for him. He wanted Richie to tell him that it was okay, that he was doing good. And Richie wasn’t there. He wouldn’t be back for a long time. What was Eddie supposed to do, in the meantime? He had no idea and it was terrifying.

Maggie detached herself from him, cupping Eddie’s face in her hands, in this soft way that Eddie really loved. He leaned in her touch, sighing, while Maggie asked him:

“So, what it’s going to be, Eddie? Do you want to cook something for Richie and Went or do you want to do something else?”

She gave him back his slate and Eddie thought for a while. If he did his best, if he really did his best, maybe he would be able to prepare a good dish for Richie. And Maggie was there. Maggie would help him. Maggie wouldn’t let him make terrible mistakes, right? She knew how to cook. Not like him.

Eddie was scared. But he had to be brave. He took a deep breath and finally wrote on his slate:

_Cooking._

Maggie smiled even more, leading him to the kitchen:

“First thing first, let’s wash our hands. If you feel the need to put your fingers in your mouth, wash them again before touching anything, alright, Eddie?”

Eddie looked at her with a mildly offended expression. As if he was going to touch Richie’s food with his hands full of saliva and germs! Richie could catch so many things if he did that. He wasn’t going to contaminate him, certainly not!

If he could still talk verbally, Eddie would have launched himself in a whole rant about what Maggie just said to him. Instead, he rolled his eyes, writing on his slate:

_Not gonna do that. Not stupid._

Maggie laughed at his words, before opening a cookbook, flipping through the pages. Eddie read with her, fascinated and a little scared by all the possibilities that were offered to them. How were they supposed to make a choice? What if they got it wrong? What if Richie was disappointed? Eddie started to hum again and Maggie stopped turning the pages, reassuring him as best as she could:

“Richie is going to be very happy, no matter what we choose. He has a sweet tooth. What about a chocolate cake?”

Eddie raised his head at Maggie’s words, suddenly very, very interested. He _loved_ chocolate. That’s why he was always so happy when Maggie prepared a batch of cookies. He wasn’t allowed to eat any of that when he was with his mother and, frankly, he missed it. Even if he never dared to say otherwise… And if Richie loved it as well, then it was surely the best choice they could make!

Eddie nodded enthusiastically, flapping his hands and letting out a happy noise. Maggie smiled, flipping the pages to find the recipe:

“Okay, chocolate cake it is. You’ll see, it’s an easy recipe and I’ll be there with you for each step. Let’s take the ingredients out first, okay?”

And Eddie did. His anxiety was fading away, leaving space for pure excitement. He was unable to stand still, bouncing on his feet, making little happy noises here and there. It was so gratifying, knowing that he was doing something for Richie. But more than that, he was actually _doing_ something, simple as that. Eddie was used to be passive and to only act when ordered to do so. But not now. Now, he was going to cook for Richie. He was going to help Maggie.

Following Maggie’s lead and the recipe, Eddie applied himself very seriously, decided to offer the best to Richie, and not to be a burden for Maggie as well. If he could do that, he would prove his mother wrong. He would show her that he could cook and not hurt himself or make too much of a mess. He kinda wished that she would be there to see him, even if he knew that she would just stop him and get him away from the kitchen…

Soon enough, the whole kitchen was smelling of chocolate and sugar and Eddie almost felt dizzy, surrounded by these wonderful odors. He couldn’t stop sniffing, causing Maggie to laugh at the sight. It was just… so good. While they were waiting for the butter to melt in the microwave, Eddie wrote on his slate:

_Never smelled good like that, at Mommy’s home. Didn’t let me eat chocolate or anything unhealthy. Always bland._

Maggie read his words and sighed, a sad smile on her lips:

“Yeah, I can imagine that. Sonia was…”

She hesitated, biting her bottom lip:

“I don’t even know what to say about her. I’m just… I’m just really happy you’re here with us now, Eddie.”

Eddie nodded and smiled as well. He was glad to be with the Toziers too. They were so nice to him. And they treated him like the adult that he was, that he forgot he was when he was with his mom. They didn’t infantilize him, they talked to him directly and they valued what he had to say. It was still a bit jarring for him, to be honest.

Sometimes, Eddie wondered if he truly earned the right to be treated that way. Richie and his parents kept reminding him that being treated appropriately wasn’t something that Eddie had to deserve, but still. During these past five years, Eddie could only hope to be and stay a good boy for his mom, to not have his privileges taken away. So the idea that these things were just supposed to be taken for granted seemed awfully absurd. Unbelievable. It was… weird.

The butter was ready and Maggie and Eddie resumed their activity. Under Maggie’s guidance, Eddie did most of the cooking, feeling incredibly proud and satisfied when they finally finished their dish, putting it in the oven. Eddie couldn’t stop looking at it, waiting for it to be ready. It looked just like the pictures in the cookbook, which meant that it was going to be good, right? That Richie was going to like it, right?

Maggie got Eddie’s attention, showing him the table and the dishes to clean.

“Would you like to give me a hand, honey?”

Eddie nodded, giving one last look to their cake, before helping Maggie as best as he could. When she offered him to lick the wooden spoon, covered with chocolate, Eddie hesitated. It didn’t seem really hygienic. Nor a proper thing to do. He could really do that? He looked at Maggie with a confused stare and she proceeded to reassure him, caressing his cheek:

“You can lick it if you want. I won’t tell you that you can do something if that’s not the case. I’m not tricking you, Eddie. I swear. So, do you want to give it a try?”

She wouldn’t trick him. It wasn’t a test. He could taste it if he wanted. Eddie took a deep breath and nodded, licking tentatively the spoon. He let out a pleased whine when the taste invaded his mouth, flapping his free hand. So good… It was so fucking good! He could just eat that for the rest of his life and he would be the happiest man in the world.

Eddie proceeded to lick thoroughly the wooden spoon, until Maggie told him that there wasn’t any chocolate anymore and that he should just clean it now. While he was doing so, she talked to him, with a nostalgic expression on her face:

“Richie always licked the spoon. Sometimes, he would come in the kitchen just for that, pretending that he hadn’t heard me when I called out to him to help me. The little rascal...”

Maggie laughed at the memory and Eddie did as well. He could totally picture it, Richie, with his innocent face, waiting to lick the spoon full of chocolate.

“Those last few years, I wondered if Richie would be happy again, like he was when you were around. I felt so powerless. And ashamed.”

Eddie put his hand hesitantly on Maggie’s and she smiled at him. That’s what people were supposed to do to comfort someone who seemed sad, right? He caressed Maggie’s skin as gently as he could, letting out a worried noise.

“I’m okay, honey. It’s just… You know, I used to drink. A lot. Too much. I thought it helped me, allowed me to handle my day-to-day life. But it just put a wall between me and the rest of the world and I could have lost everything. Everyone.”

Maggie sighed, hiding shortly her face in her free hand.

“Richie had some harsh words for me when you left, but in the end, he was right. I had to focus on myself to get better and that didn’t allow me to be there for my son as much as I should have been, these last few years. Maybe it would have been easier on him, if I did...”

Eddie took away his hand from Maggie’s, writing properly and slowly on his slate and showing it to her:

_You’re a good mom. Many times, I thought I wanted you to be my mom. But I already have a mommy and I’m a terrible son for thinking that._

Eddie bit his bottom lip, doing everything he could not to hit himself. It was so tempting, especially after saying what he just said. His mother deserved better than that from him. No matter what she had done. She was his mommy and he still loved her. He was supposed to, right? Because children were supposed to love their parents. Even if she hurt him. Even after everything that happened.

Maggie let out a soft “Oh” after reading Eddie’s words. She hugged him tightly and whispered to him, with a broken voice:

“Thank you, Eddie. I would have been so happy to have you as a son as well. I’m so glad that you’re part of our family now. You're a wonderful son. Never think otherwise.”

Eddie nodded, hugging her back. It was… good. Being hugged by Maggie like that. It wasn’t like with Richie, but he liked it anyway. It was like being in a cocoon, somewhere where no one could hurt him. He never had this kind of hug with his mommy. In his mom’s arms, Eddie felt trapped. Smothered. He knew that he was complying for her sake and her sake only. But right now, Eddie felt loved. And it was the best feeling in the world.

Finally, Maggie detached herself from Eddie, ruffling his hair:

“Richie and Went are not home yet and we just have to wait for the cake to be ready. Would you like to play something? Do you still remember how to play chess?”

Playing chess… Like he used to, with Stan! Eddie nodded happily, even though he wasn’t quite sure he remembered the rules. Maggie went to look for the board, while Eddie sat on his chair, hugging his plush. He missed Stan. And Bill. And Beverly. And Ben. Richie told him that they were doing okay, but aside from that, he didn’t really have heard from them. Did they still remember him, after all this time? He really wanted to see them, but he wasn’t sure they would like to do the same.

If he was able to talk verbally, he could call them all, but that wasn’t the case. Maybe he should write them a letter? But how to be sure that they would receive it? His mom never sent any letter to Richie, after all. What if they did get them, but didn’t want to reply? How could he know? How could he be sure?

Eddie was getting terribly anxious when Maggie came back. His fingers slipped between his lips, he was biting them harshly, gaze unfocused. Richie would know, if he was there. Richie would tell him. He needed Richie.

Putting the board on the table, Maggie proceeded to slowly take out Eddie’s fingers from his mouth, caressing his cheek, cupping his face in her hands:

“Honey, you’re there? What’s going on?”

Eddie had a hard time pulling out himself from his current state, focusing on Maggie and his surroundings. Writing took him some time and his words were barely legible when he handed his slate to Maggie:

_Miss friends. Want to see everyone._

Eddie started to cry while writing those words, unsure if they wanted to see him as well. Maybe they were just happy not to have to deal with him, while Richie and Mike were stuck with him, having to care for Eddie even though they could do funnier things otherwise.

Maggie wiped his tears, shushing him gently:

“It’s okay, honey. It’s been so long since you saw them. It’s normal that you’re missing them. We’ll call them very soon if you want. You could write what you want to say to them and Richie will read it out for them.”

Eddie nodded slowly, sniffling, and Maggie hugged him tightly, just the way he liked it.

“They’re surely going to come back for Christmas Break. Stanley a bit earlier than everyone else, to celebrate Hanukkah with his family. They did that every year since they left for their studies. I’m sure they’ll be really happy to see you. It’s just in a few months, it’s going to be there quicker than you think. You could even celebrate New Year’s Eve together, while Went and I will go out to our favorite restaurant in Bangor.”

Eddie could see his friends for Christmas. He could really see them. He hoped they would be happy to see him as well. Maybe they could discuss it over the phone, as Maggie said? If they didn’t want him around, they could just tell him right there and Eddie would stay away from them when they’ll come back. He wasn’t going to force them to bear his presence if he was undesirable.

Wiping his face, Eddie let Maggie know that he was feeling better. An idea stroke him and he wrote quickly on his slate, a bit panicked:

_Need to get presents! And for Richie too!_

Maggie laughed at his words, sitting in front of him and setting up the chessboard:

“Don’t worry, Eddie, you still have a lot of time. I’m sure Richie will be happy to accompany you for your Christmas shopping. And Went and I as well, if you want to keep your gift a secret from Richie.”

She winked at him, while Eddie looked a bit confused. He thought about the whole thing, realizing something before writing again:

_Don’t have money._

Maggie shook her head:

“You have money, Eddie. Your mom made a lot of money with her books, her documentary and all. This money belongs to you. For now, Went and I are taking care of it, but it’s yours. If you want to use it to buy presents for your friends, you can. We only used it to pay for your therapy sessions, for now.”

Eddie nodded at her words. To be fair, he was a bit relieved to know that he was paying for his therapy. He had no idea how much it cost, but it was probably expensive. And it was only for his own sake, so he felt better knowing that he wasn’t forcing the Toziers to pay for that as well. But he still had a hard time believing that he had money. Lots of it, actually. He never even got pocket money in his whole life…

“If you want to, we could look at your finances at some point. We just thought you would like to focus on your well-being first, but we shouldn’t have assumed that. I’m sorry, Eddie.”

Eddie shook his head. He wrote on his slate, as properly as he could:

_I trust you. Don’t really know how to wrap my head around that. Never had any money before._

“It’s okay, honey. Whenever you want, we’ll take the time to look into it. We’ll get you a credit card as well. That way, you’ll be able to buy whatever you want without having to ask us first. Of course, I’d probably appreciate it if you warned us before buying a whole plane, but...”

Eddie snorted at her words and Maggie laughed as well. He wasn’t about to do something _that_ stupid. But maybe he could buy himself some chocolate bar or things like that, on his way to the library with Richie? Things he never got to do when he was younger… It was with his money, so it was okay, right?

“How about this chess game, then? I’m ready to kick your ass, honey.”

Eddie chuckled at her words and focused on the game. Everything went back to him quickly, as if he never stopped playing. With Stan, he would have probably lost, but he won against Maggie, smiling widely when she had to admit her defeat. They were about to play once again, when the front door opened, Richie letting them know that he was home.

Eddie got up from his chair and ran to him, hugging him tightly. Too tightly. Richie let out a strangled noise and caressed Eddie’s hair:

“Happy to see you too, Eds. Everything’s okay?”

Eddie nodded and, taking Richie’s hand, lead him to the kitchen. He then wrote on his slate, almost shoving it in Richie’s face:

_Cook for you!_

Richie had to take a step back to avoid getting whacked in the head by the slate, smiling with a surprised expression on his face:

“You cooked something? For me?”

“Well, for your dad too, but Eddie really wanted to do something nice for you. He prepared this chocolate cake all alone, I was merely here to help.” Maggie pulled out the cake from the oven, while Richie licked his lips at the sight and at the smell, getting closer. “Not now, Richie! We’re waiting for your dad. He’s going to come back soon.”

Richie sighed, pouting exaggeratedly, but quickly focused his attention on Eddie, smiling tenderly to him:

“Thanks, Eddie. I wasn’t expecting that. You’re the best.”

Eddie beamed at his words, prouder than ever. If Richie was happy, he was happy. He loved seeing him smile like that. Especially if his smile was meant for him…

Eddie grabbed Richie’s arm, more than happy to be at his sides now that he was back. They all sat on the couch, waiting for Wentworth’s return. Eddie curled up against Richie, nuzzling his face in his neck, enjoying his presence. He missed him so much… It was so good to have him by his sides…

“So...uh. My therapist suggested that I should do some stuff outside from home, here and there. He gave me an address and a number to call. They… It’s for hyperactive adults. They have support groups, activities, stuff like that. I told him that I might give it a try.”

Maggie nodded encouragingly, letting Richie know that it would be good for him, but Eddie wasn’t so sure. He wasn’t hyperactive. At least, he didn’t think so. So, it meant that Richie would spend more time outside. Without him. Eddie bit his plush’s ear, doing his best to stay calm. It would be good, right? Richie could make some friends. He wouldn’t have to handle his presence too much, like right now. It… It would be good, right?

Richie was looking at him with a concerned gaze. He caressed Eddie’s hair softly, a strange expression on his face that Eddie couldn’t quite decipher:

“If you don’t want me to, Eddie, I won’t.”

Eddie detached himself from Richie, shaking his head furiously. He wrote quickly on his slate, feeling anxious at the idea that Richie would give up on something just for his sake:

_No! Go there. Good for you!_

“Thanks, Eds. We’ll find you something to do as well. I think it would be good for you to meet other autistic people, in a safe environment. You could have people to talk to, who would really understand what you’re going through. What do you think?”

Eddie didn’t really know. The idea made him a bit nervous, to be honest. Aside from his friends, he never really befriended anyone else and he didn’t know how to proceed. He did meet some autistic folks, when he was with his mother, but they never really interacted. Eddie was too out of it most of the times and he doubted his mom would have wanted him to have friends anyway.

But Richie was going to meet people like him and seemed to think that it was a good idea for Eddie as well. So… He should probably try. That’s what he wrote on his slate, a bit nervous, before hiding his face in Richie’s torso, humming nervously. Richie hugged him, rocking him slowly back and forth:

“It’s going to be okay, Eds. I’m sure you’ll love it as well. And they’re going to love you too. You’re the best, after all.”

Eddie’s cheeks got red and he let out an embarrassed whine. Thankfully for him, Wentworth finally came home, preventing Richie from teasing him further. Just in time for the cake! Eddie couldn’t wait to taste it. Preparing some hot chocolate and tea as well, the Toziers and Eddie enjoyed a nice time together, savoring their cake, talking about their day.

Richie kept complimenting Eddie and Eddie was getting redder and redder, hiding his face in Richie’s torso. It was so embarrassing! But he loved it. He loved hearing Richie saying those words to him. He loved hugging him. Leaning on Richie, close to him, Eddie knew that he was right where he belonged, the perfect place for him. By Richie’s sides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I love to write Eddie and Maggie bonding together. I should include Went a bit more, though, poor guy xD. Probably in another chapter. Also, I finally mentioned the Losers being back and I can't wait to write them again in the story. Even though it's harder for me to write scenes where there are lots of characters involved x). 
> 
> Eddie learns slowly to spend time without Richie, but he's still very much attached to him, in a way that isn't quite healthy. They'll both learn to strike a good balance, to be there for the other in a good way c:. 
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter! Don't hesitate to leave comments and/or kudos! I'm always so happy to read you. Have a nice day!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Here's the fourteenth chapter, I hope you'll like it!
> 
> Frankly, it was so painful to write it! Not because I wasn't inspired or what, but because my keyboard went faulty again. It took me soooo long to write, so much that I ordered a new keyboard to plug into my computer (it should arrive next week, I'll handle it until then). I kept trying to fix things, so much that I totally lost my flow and started back my chapter, even though I already wrote two full pages of it.
> 
> I hope you'll like it! Thank you so much for your support, it made my pain easier to handle x).
> 
> Here are the Trigger Warnings for this chapter:
> 
> TW for internalized ableism  
> TW for internalized homophobia  
> TW for mention of ableism
> 
> I think that's all! Good reading!

Richie didn’t think he would get such a knack for ASL, but he was visibly wrong. His first lesson went well, but the same couldn’t really be said for Eddie. It wasn’t a lack of enthusiasm, far from it. Eddie was eager to learn and was probably even more motivated than Richie. But it wasn’t easy for him. Sign language was far more subtle than what Richie thought and Eddie struggled with it all. He had to work on his facial expression, pay close attention to his partner’s face as well, and also think about his hands and the way he moved his fingers. It was a lot and Eddie had to deal with his self-esteem issues too.

The fact that Richie seemed to have an easier time than him with their first lesson visibly frustrated him. Eddie finished their class in tears and Richie had to console him and soothe him for a while in the car, before he finally managed to calm down and to get some sleep. All the way back, Richie couldn’t help, but feel guilty. These lessons were for Eddie’s sake. It was supposed to help him find an alternate way to communicate, something more comfortable than the one he was currently using. And Eddie was struggling and Richie could only try to help, as much as possible.

Two days went by since their first lesson. When Eddie asked him for help, Richie immediately agreed. It was so rare for Eddie to ask anything and Richie was more than happy to assist him. But it became quickly clear that Eddie wanted him to be a harsher teacher than he was and that he was ready to exhaust himself if it allowed him to progress a little bit more.

Eddie was relentless and kept repeating the same signs, having troubles focusing on Richie’s face, his own expression, and the way he was supposed to move and bend his fingers. Usually, Eddie barely maintained eye contact and, when he was especially tired, he even struggled to look at people’s faces, which Richie had a bit of a hard time to properly understand, but that he wouldn’t judge. But having to do so almost permanently AND to think about his gestures as well? It was asking a lot and Eddie needed time to achieve it.

But Eddie wasn’t ready to allow himself any kind of mistake, as if the world would crumble if he didn’t get it right immediately. Richie could clearly see that he was getting tired. He had learned to detect all of the signs, reading Eddie like an open book. The way he would constantly change his posture, the slight rocking movement that he constantly did, the tiny whines he would let out from time to time, not trying to express anything specific, probably not even realizing that he was doing so…

Richie really, really wanted to take a break, for Eddie’s sake. But as much as he wanted to, he was trying to get Eddie to fix his limits, to allow himself some rest. Richie needed to take a step back with Eddie, to let him make his own choices and his own mistakes, even if it meant that he would have a hard time.

If he constantly anticipated his every need and offered him a way out, Eddie would never learn to express what he wanted. Even worse, he would constantly look for Richie’s approval and guidance, putting him in a place that wasn’t so different from the one Sonia Kaspbrak occupied in her son’s life… Eddie needed to detach himself from Richie and to communicate clearly what he wanted to do and to say, even if it wasn’t necessarily what Richie wanted.

But, as much progress as he made since he came back in the Toziers’ life, Eddie was still not quite ready to determine and express his limits and his boundaries. Even though they studied for a while and Eddie was clearly exhausted, he persisted, repeating the same signs, again and again. His look was becoming hazy, his face red, and Richie had to do something.

“Hey, Eds, do you want to take a break? We can if you want. No big deal. We already worked a lot.”

Eddie raised his head towards Richie, shaking it with determination, before writing slowly on his slate, visibly struggling to hold his pen, his words barely legible:

_ No break. Not good enough. Need to study. _

Richie bit his bottom lip, wondering how he should tackle the issue. It was obvious that Eddie was hitting his breaking point and that he needed to rest for a while. But his friend was stubborn and far too obsessed with the idea of being “good”, the idea that he was doing everything that he was supposed to do for things to go well. He wasn’t going to stop until it was too late. And as much as Richie wanted to encourage his progress towards independence and autonomy, he couldn’t just allow himself to be a passive spectator to Eddie’s incoming crisis.

Calling Eddie’s name a few times, Richie recoiled slightly when Eddie finally reacted, raising his head from his study sheet with a frustrated whine, looking at Richie with a furious stare. He wasn’t expecting that from Eddie. And Eddie neither, it seemed. As soon as he realized what he did, Eddie raised his hand, visibly decided to slap or punch himself in the head. Richie couldn’t let that happen. He was his friend, for fuck’s sake!

Hugging Eddie tightly, Richie started to rock him slowly, shushing him softly:

“It’s okay, Eds. You’re tired, you’re cranky, it happens. You need to let yourself make some mistakes and progress at your own pace. There’s no rush here.”

Eddie hugged him back, letting out a sad noise, nuzzling his face against Richie’s body. He was shaking, having pushed himself too far once again. While rocking him, Richie tried to think about the best way to deal with this issue. Eddie had no intention to allow himself the tiniest mistake, feeling guilty when he struggled to do something that he felt he should accomplish easily.

Richie cursed Sonia Kaspbrak in his mind, hoping that she was suffering as much as she made his son suffer when she was still alive. He kept discovering new ways she previously hurt Eddie and what it implied. How it traumatized Eddie, preventing him to find healthy means to express himself and recover from what he went through. Fuck… He hated her. He hated her so much.

Richie knew that Eddie had fallen asleep right at the moment his body went limp against him, his lips sucking on his collar, a soft snore coming out of his throat. Richie chuckled lightly, enjoying for a minute the feeling of Eddie’s body against his, listening to his breathing. As much as he would love to stay like that until the end of times, Richie knew better than that. Eddie needed his rest and Richie should leave him alone for a while.

Slowly, but surely, he detached Eddie from himself, tucking him under their blanket. Eddie moaned in his sleep when Richie got up from the bed, before curling up on himself and sliding his fingers between his lips. Making sure that Eddie’s plush was near him if he needed it, Richie put away their ASL worksheets, resisting the temptation to lie next to him and hug him until he woke up.

He got out of their bedroom, closing the door and wiping his face, letting out a sigh. Raising his head, he jumped when his father faced him, looking at him with a soft gaze:

“Eddie’s taking a nap, I assume?”

Richie nodded, not wanting to wake him up by talking too loudly. His father and he went down the stairs, taking place on the couch. Richie wanted so much to go back to Eddie. His legs were shaking, restless, and he started to chew on his fingernails, a bad habit he thought gone. His father gave him a stress ball and Richie thanked him, pressing the toy firmly in his hand:

“I… I had a talk with my therapist. He told me that I should give Eddie his space. That I was… too much.”

Richie smiled sadly:

“I mean, he’s not wrong. I just want him to be happy. And when he’s not, I feel like I’m falling apart. I’d give everything to never see him go through a meltdown ever again.”

Wentworth ruffled his son’s hair, letting him get closer. Richie loved it, the fact that he could still be openly affectionate with his parents and that none of them ever teased him for that. He needed it. Their contact. Their presence. Their touch. Maybe it wasn’t really mature of him to be so close to his parents at his age, but he didn’t care. Not when it was such a good feeling…

“You were always kind, Richie. In spite of your crass jokes and all, you always had a soft heart, full of love. You care, so much that it might devour you. It’s not easy to strike a balance, especially with people like you and me, too intense. I can’t count the number of friends I lost because I was being too much, because I wanted to be there for them at all times and I couldn’t understand why it was wrong. Your mom helped a lot.”

“Yeah, she’s always the reasonable one.” Richie laughed lightly. “I wonder how she can still bear our presence, we’re the worst. Especially me.”

Wentworth rolled his eyes, pinching gently his son’s cheek.

“That’s not true and you know it. You need to cut yourself some slack, Richie. You’re doing just fine and Eddie is lucky to have you as a friend. We’re lucky to have you as a son.”

Unsure of how he was supposed to react, Richie swatted his father’s hand away, an awkward smile on his lips. Just like Eddie, he didn’t know how to accept a compliment. The positive thinking exercise he was supposed to do made things even worse. Richie always felt so weird, trying to come up with qualities and good things about himself to counterbalance his negative thoughts…

“You know, I just told the same thing to Eddie. He doesn’t take well the fact that he’s struggling with ASL. That he’s struggling with anything, period. No matter how much I’m trying and repeating him that he doesn’t need to push himself that much, it doesn’t work. I don’t know what to do...”

“Just keep doing what you’re doing, Richie. Eddie needs to recover at his own pace. He’s seeing his therapist again in two days and I’m sure she’ll work with him to help him overcome his issues. You’re his friend, Richie, not his doctor, not his caregiver.”

Wentworth hesitated for a few seconds, before adding with a serious tone:

“I think you should go back to work, Richie. You’re almost always home. I know you said that you were going to contact this association, something that you still haven’t done by the way...”

Richie grimaced at his father’s words. He was right, but it wasn’t easy to do. He didn’t want to call them when his parents or Eddie could hear him talk, not wanting them to know that he had lied and that it was an LGBT association. But just going there was also hard to do. Every time he tried to psych himself to do so, Richie chickened out, always finding something to do as a pretext. That he needed to get some groceries, that Eddie was waiting for him, that he was supposed to help his father or his mother… He really was a coward. Eddie was so much braver than he ever could be…

Negative thought. Richie needed to balance it. Which wasn’t easy to do either. He settled by allowing himself to think that he could be quite smart, which was true, but vague enough to not make him feel too embarrassed by this thought.

“… But I also think that it would do you some good to go back to your job. Your mom and I are there for Eddie, you know. And he also needs to have some alone time as well.”

“I… It’s too early. Eddie’s not ready, I...”

“ _You_ ’re not ready, Richie. But sometimes, you just need a little push in the right direction.”

Richie didn’t want to go back to work. Not because he disliked his job, on the contrary. But between his work hours, his therapy sessions, and the time he was going to spend at this LGBT center, when would he be there for Eddie? Maybe he’d think that Richie gave up on him, that he didn’t want to spend time with him anymore, that he was doing something wrong…

A firm grip on his shoulder. Richie took a deep breath, shaking himself off the oncoming panic attack he was about to go through.

“Follow my rhythm, okay, Richie? Everything’s fine.”

For a while, Richie focused on his breathing, doing his best to remain calm. As calm as his hyperactive ass could be, anyway. His father told him earlier that he was lucky to have him as a son, but truly, Richie was the lucky one. His parents were just the best, always there for him, supporting him in every way.

Almost every way… Richie was still not ready to tell them about his homosexuality. He wasn’t about to risk losing their love and affection. Better for them to love a fake image of their son than to hate the person that he truly was…

His father ruffled his hair once again, always willing to give his son the physical affection that he craved:

“Better, Richie?”

Richie nodded. He heard some noise upstairs, a clear sign that Eddie was up and on the move. He got up, but his father held him back, shaking his head with a patient smile:

“Let him come to us. He’s already up and moving, which means that he understood that he can leave the bed without asking any of us to allow him to do so. Come with me.”

Richie really wanted to join Eddie and make sure that he was okay, that he slept well and didn’t hurt himself, but he simply nodded and sat back on the couch, waiting nervously for Eddie to arrive. Maybe he didn’t dare to come down the stairs? What if he hurt himself badly in his sleep and couldn’t move well? What if he was waiting for him and Richie wasn’t there?

But Eddie came down on his own, rubbing his eyes, holding his slate and his plush. Richie couldn’t stop himself from smiling when he saw Eddie’s bedhead, his hair usually neatly combed sticking wildly in the air. Richie just wanted to put his hand there and to ruffle it constantly, to see how much wilder it could become. Eddie was so cute. So fucking cute.

Not totally awoken, Eddie yawned, sitting right next to Richie and curling up against him. He took the time to write on his slate, showing it to them with an ashamed expression on his face:

_ Sorry I was bad. Not gonna happen again. _

Richie shook his head at Eddie’s words, flicking him slightly on the forehead. Eddie let out an annoyed noise, massaging the zone Richie touched while giving him an angry look:

“What? I didn’t do anything!”

Eddie groaned and rolled his eyes, causing Wentworth to laugh.

“You weren’t being bad, Eddie. You pushed yourself too much because you wanted to do your best. But you don’t need to go that far. It’s not a race, take all the time you need.”

“Richie’s right, son. Don’t be too hard on yourself. Besides, you made tons of progress since you arrived here. You should acknowledge that.”

Eddie shrugged and Richie immediately retorted, decided to not let Eddie think that he wasn’t doing enough:

“It’s true! Look, you just took a nap all alone. I don’t see any bite marks on your fingers. And you got up and came to us on your own, without waiting for me to come looking for you. A few weeks ago, heck, a few days ago, you wouldn’t have done that. Do you realize that?”

Eddie shook his head, writing quickly on his slate, letting out a frustrated noise:

_ Not enough. Too slow. I’m a burden. Need to get better quickly. _

Richie felt his throat closing up, reading Eddie’s words. He wanted to shake him to make him understand how wrong he was. He also wanted to hug him so tightly that they would never be able to separate themselves from the other. Instead, he took a deep breath, holding Eddie’s hand in his:

“You’re not a burden, Eddie. You’re brave, you’re kind, you’re determined. You’re many, many things, but you’re certainly not a burden. You’re an essential part of this family, just like I am, just like my mom and my dad are. I’ll tell you that again and again, until your stubborn brain finally accepts this as a fact. You’re not a burden, Eddie. You’re my best friend and I l… like you very much.”

Richie couldn’t say the word “love”. Not in front of his father. Not when he knew that Eddie wouldn’t know what he truly meant. It would be selfish of him. It seemed to be enough for Eddie though, who nodded and nuzzled his face against his torso, as he always did. Richie hesitated to hug him back when the front door opened and his mother came back.

He immediately got up and prepared her a cup of tea. She was always tired after her AA meetings. Richie couldn’t quite imagine what it was like and she didn’t want to talk about it, a wish that he could only respect. He hugged her affectionately, asking her with a worried tone:

“Everything’s fine?”

His mother nodded, offering him a tired smile.

“I’m okay. Thanks for the tea, Richie. You’re the best.”

She sat on the couch, letting out a sigh, while Richie was bringing her mug to his mom. Taking place right next to Eddie again, Richie thought about his father’s words. He really cared too much. About Eddie. About his mom. About his friends. He just wanted the best for them, no matter what it implied for him. As long as they were happy, he didn’t care. And that was the issue. 

Perceiving his look, Maggie smiled at Richie, caressing his cheek:

“I told you, I’m fine. You need to trust us a little bit more, Richie. Right, Eddie?”

Eddie made an approving whine, causing Richie to lash out dramatically:

“E tu, brute? I bet she bought you with her cookies. That woman is the devil incarnate.”

“That woman is your mother, Richie. Show her a little more respect.” Wentworth got up to pinch his cheek gently, Eddie chuckling at the sight. 

Richie retaliated immediately, starting to tickle his father, knowing every single one of his weaknesses. Maggie had to calm them down quickly before it escalated. When Richie and his father started to tease each other that way, it wasn’t rare they took it too far, unable to stop themselves once their surge of energy kicked in. Maggie was always there to appease them, knowing exactly how to get them to calm down.

They finally all settled on the couch, talking to each other and watching distractedly some TV show, at a lower volume to not overwhelm Eddie too much. Eddie participated as much as he could, but between his previous outburst and his nap, he lacked the energy to do so for too long. His head lying on Richie’s knees, he was watching the screen, sucking on his fingers. 

Richie caressed his hair, a warm feeling in his heart. Eddie always looked for his contact, for his affection. Should he say something about that? Richie had a hard time determining when they were too much on each other and when it was okay for them to be there, close and tactile. He didn’t have it in him to get Eddie off his knees, not when he seemed so content to be there. 

Richie probably needed to discuss that with him. As well as his father’s suggestion to go back to work. He wouldn’t go if Eddie told him that he didn’t want him to do so. No matter what his father or his therapist thought about that, he wasn’t about to leave Eddie if he needed him. Richie wouldn’t become one of these people who betrayed his trust. He swore to Eddie that he would be there for him and Richie would never break his promise. Not to anyone, but certainly not to Eddie.

They spent the rest of the day together, their discussions interspersed with comfortable silences, enjoying everyone else’s presence. It was simple. It was perfect. Richie wouldn’t dare to ask for more. When Eddie and Richie went back to their room, ready for the night, Richie caught his friend’s attention, trying to find the right words for him.

Hugging his plush, Eddie was focused on Richie, a serious expression on his face. He was still terribly cute, though… Not the moment, Richie!

“So, uh, how should I put it? You know, Dr. Norton? We talked a lot, at our previous session. We concluded that I didn’t really leave you space to recover properly. That we should probably spend some time apart. Not… Not all the time, of course! You’re my friend, my best friend, I’m not…!”

Richie was getting overly excited and he could see that he was making Eddie anxious in the process. He forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to remain calm. If they both got nervous, it wouldn’t do them any good. Holding Eddie’s left hand in his, Richie kept talking, trying to not ramble too much:

“What I’m trying to say is that it might do us some good if we had our own activities, here and there. If… If I got back to work, as well.”

Eddie used his right hand to write quickly on his slate, with a concerned expression on his face:

_ I’m being bad? _

Richie shook his head rapidly. That’s exactly what he didn’t want to happen! Fuck!

“No, no, no, absolutely not! I swear, Eds! It’s just… I’m...”

Richie sighed, before finally saying what he was trying to say:

“I’m overbearing. I’m being too much. And that means that I’m not allowing you to recover as you should. Mom told me that you were ready to wait for me on the stairs until I came back from my therapy session. I… It’s not what I want. I want you to do whatever you want, whether I’m with you or not. I’m sorry if I wasn’t clear enough on the matter.”

Eddie bit his bottom lip, staying pensive for a few minutes before writing on his slate:

_ I understand. Don’t apologize. Shouldn’t rely on you so much. Sorry. _

Richie chuckled at Eddie’s words, poking gently his cheek:

“Don’t be sorry, Eds. If I’m not allowed to apologize, you're not either. You’ve been here for a little while now, but we’re still adjusting and that's okay. As long as you’re happy and doing well, it’s going to be fine.”

Eddie pouted at his words, shaking his head and shoving his board in Richie’s face:

_ You should be happy too! Not happy if you’re not! _

Eddie tapped on his slate with his pen a few times, to make sure that Richie understood what he was trying to say. Richie shrugged, smiling softly:

“You’re too good for me, Eddie Kaspbrak.”

Eddie rolled his eyes at his words, before hugging him, as if it was a natural thing to do as an answer. Richie let him do so, hugging him as well. He felt so good, in Eddie’s arms. Richie would gladly spend his whole life there and would be the happiest man in the world. As long as Eddie was with him…

“I’m so happy you’re with us. I missed you so much.”

Eddie let out a soft noise, detaching himself from Richie to write on his slate:

_ Missed you too. Wrote you letters every day. Mom was sending them if I was good boy. _

But Sonia Kaspbrak never sent a fucking letter. Not once. She didn’t want Richie to know that his friend was still thinking about him, in spite of the distance, of what he was going through. Fuck… Eddie really wrote him a letter every day? Even though writing was painful for him?

He wanted to cry. And while Eddie was still trying to reach out to him, Richie wallowed in his despair. Maybe he could have done something more. He should have. Eddie deserved better from him.

“Thank you, Eddie. I wish I could have read your letters. Your mother never sent them. Not because you were bad, no. She knew that I would have crossed the whole country to find you, as soon as I knew where you were.”

Eddie laughed at his words, but Richie was deadly serious. He would go through hell for Eddie. To ensure that he would be happy. While they were still hugging, Richie heard Eddie yawn and encouraged him to go to bed, lying by his sides.

Eddie fell asleep at godspeed, to Richie’s amusement. But he should probably mention that to his therapist. Eddie seemed constantly tired, even though he slept quite a lot. Maybe there was something to do to help him?

Was he still caring too much? Richie definitively had a hard time to determine that. He was probably overthinking it. As usual. 

Eddie let out a soft whine in his sleep and Richie caressed his hair, looking at him with a gaze full of love. He could only hope that Eddie’s dreams were peaceful, far from the nightmares he often had. The nightmares that Richie himself kept having, after all this time. About Sonia’s death. About his friends and family, disowning him as soon as they learned about his homosexuality. About Eddie and how betrayed he felt, knowing the kind of feelings that Richie had for him.

Doing his best to chase away those awful thoughts, Richie held Eddie’s hand in his, letting himself fall asleep slowly, always looking at Eddie. Even without his glasses, Eddie was the prettiest. Sure, Richie could barely see more than blobs of color, but Eddie was obviously the most beautiful blob he ever saw. That was for sure!

Richie finally managed to fall asleep. His last thought was for Mike, thinking that he should probably ask him if his offer for Eddie was still on the table. Maybe Eddie would like to work as well… To have his own life, away from Richie, from times to times... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Richie, overthinking? Nooo, never xD. Even though my keyboard was against me, I really liked writing this chapter. Things are probably going to move forward quite soon for Eddie and Richie and I'm really impatient to start to write it. Finally giving some time for Wentworth was worth it, though. Maggie gets all the glory, but Went is a good parent as well c:.
> 
> Don't hesitate to comment and/or leave kudos! I'm always so happy to interact with you and discover what you thought about the chapter! 
> 
> Have a nice day!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! My new keyboard arrived way earlier than I thought, so I decided to write the 15th chapter of this fanfic to test it out. It's perfect, I'm still getting used to it here and there, but this chapter was really easy to write thanks to it.
> 
> Thank you for your support! I hope you'll like this chapter. 
> 
> Here are the Trigger Warnings for this one:
> 
> TW for ableism  
> TW for ableist violence  
> TW for homophobia  
> TW for homophobic violence  
> TW for mention of pedophilia  
> TW for the r-word  
> TW for homophobic slurs  
> TW for infantilization
> 
> I think that's all. Good reading!

Eddie was always excited when Richie took him to the library. He was able to leave the house for a bit, something that scared him at first, but that he was progressively getting accustomed to. It allowed him to see Mike as well, even though his friend was working and didn’t always have the time to talk with them. Richie had suggested inviting Mike out and Eddie was really impatient, though quite anxious at the same time. It would be the first time he ever went out to do something “adult”, not only since he arrived at the Toziers’ house, but also since he was basically born.

That’s why he decided to let his plush at home, even though Richie told him that it was fine if he wanted to take it with him. Adults didn’t bring plushes with them to go to a bar, silly! And besides, Richie would be there. If he felt nervous or stressed out, Eddie knew that he could talk to him about it. He only hoped that he would able to handle it long enough to allow his friends to have their fun…

As always, Eddie wore one of Richie’s overly sized hoodies to leave the house. He felt safe, floating in his clothes, smelling his odor. As if Richie was hugging him permanently, something he wished could happen, even though it was stupid of him. Eddie just felt so good in Richie’s arms… Such a sweet and warm feeling, coursing through his veins, causing his heart to beat a little bit faster than usual.

Eddie was a bit worried about Richie, to be honest. The night before, his friend told him that they should both have their own space, from time to time, and that he was probably going back to work very soon. Richie seemed hesitant, even scared, so much that Eddie found himself feeling anxious as well. Eddie didn’t know how to feel about the whole thing. He knew that Richie was right, that it would be better for the both of them, but… but spending so much time without him?

Eddie had spent a whole afternoon cooking with Maggie, without Richie by his sides, which meant that he was able to do it, that he could do things without his friend around, but it didn’t make it easier to accept. A part of him just wanted to stay close to Richie at all times, to make sure that he was okay and that he was happy with the way Eddie was acting and communicating.

But that’s not how it worked and Eddie knew it. That’s not how he would get better. So he did his best to bury his anxious thoughts and to show support to Richie, because he was his best friend and he wouldn’t go back to work if Eddie told him otherwise. He wouldn’t meet with his association either, something that ought to do him some good.

As much as Eddie loved his friend and wanted to be there for him, there were things he would never entirely understand about him and having people he could talk to about his hyperactivity and what it entailed would help him a lot, Eddie was sure of it. Even though it was hard to think that Richie could make other friends and gradually leave Eddie behind, realizing that the world had better relationships to offer to him…

But now was not the time to think about that. Eddie and Richie were going to the library and then, they’ll spend the evening with Mike, having fun as adults did. Eddie couldn’t wait for it to happen! He was extremely giddy, so much that he didn’t get impatient when his fingers refused to cooperate properly when he tied his shoes. Richie waited by his sides, smiling and encouraging him gently. Eddie flapped happily his hands when he finally managed to do so, enjoying the feeling of his long sleeves whipping the air.

And they left. To Eddie’s surprise, Richie held his hand out to him, waiting for him to choose if he wanted to hold it. He had been so hesitant the last time… Eddie didn’t hesitate a second, taking Richie’s hand in his, holding it firmly. It felt reassuring, walking outside while being so close to his best friend. Touching him, feeling his skin against his, knowing that Richie was _there_ , even if he closed his eyes and couldn’t see him anymore. His hand was holding his. Eddie couldn’t be happier. 

He was walking, humming a tune from a song Richie made him listened to, when he suddenly bumped into his friend. Richie had stopped and Eddie didn’t understand why until he raised his head, looking in front of them. Henry Bowers. And his gang.

“Eddie, we have to run. Go back home. Now!”

But Eddie was paralyzed, cold sweat rolling on his back, memories flooding his brain. He hadn’t seen them since the last time he went to school. Bowers always tormented him, the little asshole who dared to trip him up and got him suspended, mama’s boy, too small to defend himself, too fragile to hit back. 

Eddie almost fell when Richie started to run in the opposite direction, not waiting for his friend to wake up from his stupor. But even if he was not sick as he believed it all these years, Eddie never really exercised and, trying to follow Richie’s long legs and to keep up with him, he started to wheeze heavily, his body shaking, his face red. He wanted to tell Richie to let him go, to run to the house all alone, but he couldn’t grab his slate to do so and he would have probably been unable to write anything while running and panting. 

Too late. Bowers got to them. Eddie felt fingers grabbing his arm and pulling him back brutally. He yelled, separated from Richie, but Henry Bowers put his hand on his mouth, muffling him. Richie tried to get Eddie back, but Victor Criss, Belch Huggins, and Patrick Hockstetter surrounded him, preventing him to do anything. Criss and Belch held one of his arms each and Patrick delivered the first blow, a punch to his stomach. Richie coughed and bent over, visibly in pain. A vision that Eddie couldn’t tolerate any longer…

Biting Bowers’s hand, Eddie released himself from his grip, ready to fight anyone who hurt Richie. But he was all alone and Henry was _furious._ He grabbed him by the hair, causing Eddie to scream, and tackled him to the ground. The shock was so brutal that Eddie blacked out for a few seconds, before the pain he felt forced him back to reality. 

“Your boyfriend has sharp teeth, Tozier! That’s what you like on your faggot dick, huh? You like it when he bites, right?”

Eddie didn’t understand what Bowers meant, but he knew one thing. He needed to set himself free, _now._ In spite of his pain and how weak he felt, he started to wiggle around, trying to escape Bowers’s grip. He just needed to get away. He could get help… He could tell Mike and… and…

“Hey, Patrick, you remember the stuff from the documentary?”

Delivering one kick to Richie’s torso, causing him to wheeze painfully, he came back to Henry Bowers, whispering to his ear stuff that Eddie couldn’t hear. Fuck… He had to get away… He had to… Just keep struggling, don’t stop. Don’t…

“No! Quiet!”

Eddie froze at Bowers’ words, at his tone. The way he was holding him, putting his weight on his body, keeping him against the ground, his hand on his head. Quiet. Don’t move. Shut up. Don’t bother anyone. Don’t be bad. Stop. They’ll take what you love away. Quiet. Quiet. Quiet.

Eddie whined weakly and finally recoiled when Bowers screamed _the_ words once again, with such authority that it sent him back right away to his sessions, to his mother and the way she treated him. Quiet. Quiet hands. Don’t move. Good boy. Good boy. 

He stopped thrashing around and Bowers got closer to his face, so much that Eddie could feel his breath on his skin, that he could see his wicked smile, deforming his face in a grotesque way:

“Your mom trained you well, girly boy. She taught you some tricks, huh? I could make you roll over, like a fucking dog. Or you could play dead… Until you stop pretending.”

Henry pulled out his knife and Eddie still didn’t move, barely letting out a whine. Richie started to scream, trying to get Bowers’s attention off Eddie. 

“Too scared to pick on someone your own size, Bowers? Afraid by the size of my massive d…!”

Hockstetter punched him in the face and Eddie heard his glasses break. He wheezed and tried to get away from Bowers’s grip, but he just had to repeat _the_ words and Eddie froze, shaking slightly, sweating awfully. He could feel the tar against his face, penetrating the skin. He wasn’t sure if it hurt or not. Eddie wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

Grabbing him by the hair, Bowers raised Eddie’s head to his level, looking at him with pure hatred and contempt:

“You’re not calling your mommy for help, Kaspbrak? You need her, don’t you? You can’t do a fucking thing without her! You liked it when she wiped your tiny faggot dick, huh?”

Henry Bowers sneered and forced Eddie to look at Richie, who seemed in a bad shape:

“He’s the one who wipes your dick now, huh? I bet you fucking love it, you fucking fag! You’re cleaning his fucking dick too, huh?”

Gripping Eddie’s chin violently, Bowers smiled widely, digging his nails into the skin so profoundly that he started to draw blood:

“You put your fucking mouth on his dick, huh? You fucking faggot!”

Eddie heard Richie laugh, knowing that he was trying to get Bowers to focus on him and leave Eddie alone. He whined weakly, unable to tell him to stop, begging him mentally to stop running his mouth, to stop looking for troubles. 

“… ‘Starting to believe you’re the one who wants to suck dicks, Bowers.”

“Shut the fuck up, Tozier! You shut the fuck up!”

Eddie screamed when Hockstetter punched him directly in the nose. Richie’s head stayed low, preventing Eddie to see if he was still conscious. If he was okay… 

“Scared for your boyfriend, Kaspbrak?”

As an answer, Eddie spat in Henry’s face, wincing and wheezing when Bowers forced his head against the ground. His vision was getting blurry and his thoughts were starting to get confused. For a minute, he forgot where he was, hearing his mother’s voice in his ear, feeling her weight on his body, preventing him from moving in any way. Quiet, Eddie bear! Quiet. Stop being so ungrateful, after everything I’ve done for you! Be a good boy! Quiet. Quiet. Eddie Sweetie, be…

“I fucking asked you something, Kaspbrak!”

Bowers dug his fingernails in his skin even more and Eddie yelped weakly, ignoring what he ordered him to do. Was no one going to help them? Where was everyone? Eddie could swear that he saw some people around… Did they just run away? Did they just leave them in this shitty situation? Fuck… Fuck…

“Leave him alone, Bowers. Please...” Richie begged, his voice barely audible, wheezing and sniffling. “I’ll do whatever the fuck you want. Please...”

Eddie heard them all laughing, laughing at their misery as if it was the funniest joke they ever heard, and he felt tears rolling on his cheeks. He couldn’t stop them, no matter how hard he tried to do so. Shaking and sniffling, Eddie cried, terrified by Bowers and his gang, scared for Richie, frustrated by how weak he was and how no one was there to help them. They all called him their precious angel, but when he really needed them… No one was fucking there. 

“Your boyfriend is crying like a little girl, Tozier! I bet that fucking turns you on, huh, you fucking queer?”

“Please...”

Another hit. Richie let out a retching sound, about to throw up. Eddie whined while Bowers whispered to him:

“He’s very good at begging, huh? How about you, retard?”

The cold feeling of Bowers’s blade on his cheek. Eddie tried to stay still, as much as possible, but he was shaking and he could feel the knife piercing his skin, slowly, but surely.

“I want to hear you beg. You just have to say one little word. A pretty “please” and I’ll leave your boyfriend alone. How about that?”

Eddie felt his throat closing up, his heart skipping a beat. He hadn’t been able to articulate properly a single word for so many years… He… He couldn’t… 

“I’m being nice, Kaspbrak. Just one word and your boyfriend is free. Come on, I want to fucking hear you!”

Bowers dug his knife in Eddie’s skin and Eddie whined, overwhelmed by the pain and the fear. Henry Bowers screamed at his ear and Eddie jumped, startled, the blade hurting him a bit more:

“Say “please”, you fucking retard! Please!”

“He can’t! He can’t! Bowers, I’m begging you, leave...”

Eddie heard Richie being hit and then silence. He couldn’t see if he was okay, if he was conscious, if everything was okay. He… He had to talk… He had to say “please”. They would leave Richie alone. He didn’t care what they might do to him. As long as Richie was safe… Eddie had to help him. He had to save him.

“P… P…”

Eddie didn’t quite remember the moment he found himself unable to utter a single word. It was like there was a wall, separating his thoughts from his vocal cords. Every time he tried to talk, the words were distorted, mixed up, until what came out of his mouth was nothing more than an unintelligible whine. But he had to do it. He had to say please. For Richie.

“Pl… Pl...”

Bowers sneered at his attempts, his gang laughing as well. Eddie felt humiliated, wanting nothing more than to crawl in a hole and stay there for the rest of his life. How fucking hard it was? He just had to say “please”, for Richie. He could do that for Richie, right? 

Eddie started to bawl, which made the whole thing even harder. Why was it so complicated? Why couldn’t he just _talk?_

“Ple… Pl’sh… Pl’sh...”

He kept repeating this, again and again, unable to articulate the word correctly. But he was saying it. He was talking. He was fucking talking! Bowers could understand him, right? 

“Pl’sh...”

It was exhausting, pulling the words out of his throat. His thoughts were getting more and more confused and he could barely feel the pain from the blade. Bowers could have outright stabbed him and Eddie wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. He just repeated himself, again and again, his gaze becoming hazy, his thoughts slowly stopping to make any sense. 

“Eddie...”

“I can’t fucking believe it. This fucking retard can’t even talk and I’m the one they want to put in a fucking institution!”

Eddie didn’t quite understand what happened next. He was still repeating his plea, not even knowing if Richie was still there or not, when he stopped feeling Bowers’s weight on his body. He didn’t dare to move, begging indefinitely, his throat hurting him more and more every time he let out a barely articulated sound. 

A hand caressed his cheek and Eddie recoiled, waiting to be hit, waiting for the pain to kick in. He heard words, but he couldn’t understand them. Everything was a blur. Eddie only knew one thing and one thing only: he had to save Richie. 

“Pl’sh… Pl’sh… Pl’sh...”

He didn’t realize that someone was helping him up on his feet, supporting his weight. Eddie kept begging, his vision blurry, his mind feverish, not realizing that it was over. That, finally, a person reacted and came to their rescue.

*

Richie’s whole body was riddled with pain. He could barely see through his broken glasses and he felt weak on his legs. But he still found the strength to walk, to support Eddie. Eddie who kept begging, stuck in his own mind, unable to see that Bowers and the others weren’t there anymore. 

Of all the people Richie hoped to save them, Greta Keene was certainly _not_ on top of the list. She wasn’t even on the list, to be honest. She was doing some deliveries for her work when she came across them, interrupting Bowers and the others. She told Henry that his father was doing some rounds and that he didn’t want to be caught brutalizing the shit out of “Derry’s precious angel”. 

Henry Bowers had thrown some slurs at her, but he wasn’t about to risk it. He knew very well what would happen to him if his father saw him like that… He and his gang ran away and Greta Keene had helped Eddie up, supporting most of his weight, since Richie was clearly unable to do so. 

“I’ll patch you up at the pharmacy. You two look like shit.”

Richie’s attention was wholly focused on Eddie, caressing his cheek, trying to get him out of the hell his mind was putting him through, but he still found the time to thank Greta, on their way back. She sneered at his words:

“I’m not doing this for you, fucker. I still think you’re the fucking worst, Tozier.”

Richie didn’t argue, doing his best to keep up with Greta when his whole body wanted to shut down. He sighed with relief when they finally arrived at the pharmacy. Signaling to her new boss that she was taking a break, she led them to the back of the pharmacy, installing Eddie on a couch. Richie sat next to him, holding his hand. His gaze focused on nothing in particular, Eddie didn’t stop begging once, his “pl’sh” barely audible. He kept repeating this word while Greta was taking care of him, shaking and sweating.

“Is he going to be okay?” She was careful in her movements, not wanting to scare him more than he already was. Richie had a hard time believing that it was really Greta Keene, fucking Greta Keene, being so cautious while treating Eddie. He must be dreaming. No, not a dream. A nightmare. A real fucking nightmare.

“I don’t know. I… He has his moments, but it’s never so… so intense.”

Richie squeezed Eddie’s hand, calling his name softly, but Eddie didn’t react, didn’t squeeze back. Richie was terrified. He was startled when Greta threw first aid supplies on his knees:

“Here, you can fucking take care of your wounds. I’m not touching you.”

“Well, thank you, Greta.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm. “Such a caring nurse… I was about to ask if you were replaced by your Good twin, but I can see you’re still pretty much the same.”

Greta stared at him, a furious look that Richie wasn’t expecting from her:

“You put my father in jail, asshole! What? You thought we’ll get chummy? I’m not your friend, fucker. My dad is going to die there and it’s your fault!”

Richie had completely forgotten about Mr. Keene. What he said on TV and the proofs he delivered incriminated him and the old man was put to jail, months before Eddie came back into their life. Richie bit his bottom lip, but he wasn’t about to feel guilty. Doing his best to take care of his wounds, he retorted:

“My fault? Your father was the one who gave these fucking meds to Eddie! He knew he didn’t need them, he could have denounced Eddie’s mom and everything would have been fucking fine! Eddie… Eddie wouldn’t suffer like that if your fucking dad just fucking talked!”

Eddie interrupted his litany for a second, a scared whine coming out of his mouth. But he quickly went back to it, as if nothing happened. He had to save Richie… He had to help him…

Greta sighed. She finished patching up Eddie, preparing a glass of water for him. 

“He’s my father. He’s a fucking asshole and a pervert, but he’s my dad and he’s going to die in fucking jail. Thanks to you.”

She sounded so… jaded. Richie didn’t know what to say. Everything that came to his mind seemed needlessly cruel, especially since Greta saved them and was currently helping Eddie, the best she could.

“Try to see if you can make him drink that. I’ll call your parents to pick you up.”

She gave the glass to Richie, looking at Eddie with a gaze full of regrets and worry:

“I… I should have said something earlier. About his meds. About everything.”

She sighed, wiping her face, playing with her hair nervously:

“I was the worst. The fucking worst.”

Richie started to say something, but Greta interrupted him:

“I’m not asking for your pity. I don’t want you to tell me that I was a fucking child or anything like that. I was fifteen, for fuck's sake! I made a mistake and I’m assuming the consequences. Say a fucking word and, if your nose isn’t yet broken, I’ll break it myself. I swear.”

She was about to leave when she turned back to Richie, hesitating, before asking:

“Hey, uh… If you see Beverly, can you tell her that I’m sorry? I… I was a fucking bitch with her. It’s not her fault if her father was a fucking pedophile and if my dad was such a creep. I…”

She bit her bottom lip:

“Nevermind. I’m gonna call your folks.”

And Greta left, before Richie could say anything. He focused back on Eddie, who was still trapped in his mind. Richie caressed his cheek, avoiding the bandages, a gentle touch, as he always did with Eddie.

“Eds? We’re safe. It’s over. Come back to me, please.”

Richie didn’t want to hear him begging any longer. He didn’t think hearing him talk again would be so painful, so awful. Eddie was stuck somewhere and Richie couldn’t reach him. He tried to make him drink, as Greta suggested him to do, but most of the water dripped from Eddie’s mouth, mixed with saliva. 

Richie felt tears rolling down his cheeks. He gently got Eddie to sit on his knees and hugged him, rocking him slowly. Fuck… Why did it have to happen? Why didn’t he take the car to go to the library? Eddie would have been safe! But he was so happy to be outside, to walk with Richie… 

It should have been fine. Everything should have been fine. They should be at the library with Mike and then having fun at a bar. Not… Not here. In this pharmacy, hurting everywhere, Eddie begging and begging again, hoping to save Richie from Bowers and his gang. He knew how hard it was for him to talk. He knew how scared he was, how traumatized he was, and still… Still, Eddie fought back. He tried to help him. He tried to save him. He… He…

“I’m so sorry, Eds. I’m sorry.”

Richie didn’t know how long they stayed like that, Eddie getting progressively silent until he didn’t utter a single word again. It could have been hours, it could have been a pair of minutes. Richie had no idea. Everything hurt. He was so tired. He just wanted to sleep, but he couldn’t. He had to make sure Eddie was okay. He had to bring him back. No matter what.

Eddie’s body went limp against him, but Richie kept rocking him gently, shushing him, whispering tender words to his ear. When his parents arrived, his mother screamed and hugged Richie, who could only wince from the pain. She apologized, helping him up while Wentworth was holding Eddie in his arms, cautious not to hurt him or wake him up. 

Driving them to the hospital, Richie was relieved to know that Eddie didn’t suffer from any lasting damage. His own nose was broken, but he didn’t care. It could have been worse. Much, much worse. As soon as they were back home, Richie called Mike, who had tried to reach them many times. He didn’t have the energy to talk for long, but he reassured him about their physical condition and assured him that he would call back soon.

Eddie was still sound asleep. He did wake up at some point, but he was so out of it that Richie doubted he would remember it. They were lying on their bed together, Richie caressing his cheek, making sure that Eddie would feel his touch, feel him by his sides.

Richie had failed him. It was his fault if Eddie had been attacked. He didn’t manage to protect him. Bowers… Bowers was so fucking cruel. Now that they were safe, his words finally pierced Richie’s armor, a punch to the gut worse than any hit he took while they were beating him.

Faggot. Queer. Everything he said, everything he implied… Richie wanted to throw up. And he said all of that to Eddie. Richie felt awful. Dirty. A part of him wanted to stop touching Eddie. He was _contaminating_ him. Eddie didn’t deserve any of that.

Eddie whined in his sleep, becoming agitated. Richie cautiously hugged him, careful to not hurt him.

“Shh… Eds, it’s over. You were so brave. You were so fucking brave.”

Richie loved him. He loved him so much. Eddie who tried so hard to save him. Eddie who was ready to do anything to help him. Not even to save himself. Fuck… Fuck…

Richie started to cry. He rested his head against Eddie, letting him chew on his collar, sobbing loudly. Too loudly. His mother knocked at their door, but he begged her to stay outside. He couldn’t bear it. He wasn’t ready to hear her comforting words, to feel her touch, her affection. He didn’t deserve it. Eddie had been so badly hurt and it was because of him.

Richie didn’t believe in any god, but he prayed, he prayed so hard for Eddie. For him to have the strength to move on from what happened. He prayed that it didn’t erase his progress, that he would smile again the next day. That everything would be okay.

He had to have faith in Eddie’s therapist. She was supposed to come tomorrow for their second session and, god, Eddie needed her help right now. Richie could only hope that she would be able to deal with this situation… That Eddie would be fine.

“I’ll get you out of here, Eds. I’ll get you out of this shithole, I promise, Eddie.”

Kissing him softly on the forehead, Richie closed his eyes, hugging Eddie. His sleep was plagued with nightmares, but every time he woke up, Eddie was there. Saving him from his darkest thoughts. Giving him the courage to keep going on, no matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Yeah, this chapter was pretty heavy. I had it in my mind for a while and I kinda pushed it back as much as I could to give some fluff and happier moments to Eddie and Richie. But it had to happen. I hope you won't be too angry at me.
> 
> The next chapter will feature Eddie's therapy session. God knows he needs it after that... I hope you'll like it as well.
> 
> Don't hesitate to comment and/or leave kudos! 
> 
> Your support means a lot to me and I'm so happy to read what you thought about the chapter I've written. It motivates me to keep writing, which is basically the only thing saving me from depression right now, since I'm still stuck at home and barely active otherwise.
> 
> See you soon!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Thank you so much for your support. I'm sorry for the 15th chapter, I didn't tag it properly at first. Thanks to one of my readers, it's now fixed!
> 
> I hope you'll like this chapter. It didn't quite go like I thought it would, but I really liked writing it.
> 
> Here are the trigger warnings for this chapter:
> 
> TW for internalized homophobia  
> TW for ableism  
> TW for mention of homophobic violence  
> TW for self-harm  
> TW for mention of emetophobia
> 
> I think that's all. Don't hesitate to let me know otherwise! Good reading!

Richie didn’t want to leave his bed. If he pretended hard enough, maybe he could forget that the outside world existed. Maybe he could forget what happened. But that was impossible. Every time he looked at Eddie, he was forced to confront reality. What happened to them.

It wasn’t a nightmare. It wasn’t just one of those terrible bad dreams Richie tended to do, every now and then. It was real. It was fucking real. Bowers and his gang, they… they beat them up. Without any particular reason. Just because they saw them. Just because Richie and Eddie dared to exist, dared to be different in their own way. Fuck. Fuck.

Richie’s whole body was hurting, but it was nothing compared to the crushing feeling that was invading his mind, taking over most of his thoughts. He couldn’t stop thinking about what happened. He kept replaying the scene in his mind, again and again, and his brain was actually making things worse. He could almost see in Eddie’s eyes, when Bowers forced him to look at Richie, a look that meant “It’s your fucking fault, Richie”.

If only he wasn’t what he was. Bowers was seeing straight through his masks, through his pretending. He knew that Richie was nothing more than a filthy queer and he hurt him for that. But worse than that, he hurt  _ Eddie  _ because of that. Eddie had done nothing wrong. He… He just wanted to have some fun, for once, in his fucking life! Why? Fucking why?

After a whole night plagued with nightmares, Richie felt exhausted. He just wanted to stay under the blanket and never come out of his room. Eddie and he could stay here. Away from everything else. Safe from this fucking world and the Bowers that inhabited it. Was he crying? Shit. Richie wiped his tears, breathing deeply. Eddie couldn’t see him like that. When he'll wake up, he'll have to see Richie as this strong figure that could definitely protect him, keep him safe, allowing him to recover slowly, but surely. Not as the pathetic asshole that he was the day before…

Richie was terrified. Terrified to discover how it affected Eddie. What if Eddie started his litany again, still stuck in his mind? What if all of his work, all of his progress just vanished? Eddie worked so fucking hard to get where he was… It was unfair. It was so unfair. It shouldn’t have happened. Why did it happen? Richie knew he would never get a proper answer to that question, but he still had to ask it. His brain wouldn’t let him do otherwise…

Eddie opened his eyes, half-asleep, hazy gaze. Richie forced a smile on his lips, caressing Eddie’s cheek, the one who wasn’t covered in bandages:

“Hey, Eds. Did you sleep well?”

Eddie didn’t answer. He didn’t even try to reach out for his slate. He only curled up, putting his fingers between his lips and sucking on them. He wasn’t looking at Richie. Not even in his general direction. Richie didn’t even know if Eddie could understand him, right now. But he’d rather think that he could, even if he didn’t answer in any way that Richie could comprehend:

“Does it hurt?”

Still no reaction. Eddie kept sucking on his fingers, soothing himself in the only way he could think of at the moment. Richie got a bit closer and Eddie immediately reached out to him, hugging him tightly with his free arm, hiding his face in his torso. Richie slightly grimaced from the pain, but he didn’t push Eddie back. On the contrary, he rubbed his back softly, letting him know that he was there, supporting him, loving him. 

“Do you want to get up, Eddie?”

Richie didn’t want to, but if Eddie manifested in any way that he wanted to do so, Richie would follow him and help him. But Eddie didn’t answer. He didn’t nod or shake his head. He didn’t try to sign or to write on his slate. He kept hugging Richie, all curled up against him, not even letting out a sound. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Why? Why Eddie? Why did it have to happen to  _ him? _

Richie caressed Eddie’s hair, as if he was touching the most precious thing in the whole world. He would give anything to get an answer from him, to make sure that he was okay, to protect him from what was hurting him, physically and mentally. But he couldn’t. Richie could only try to be there for him and to be strong. To not let his own fears take away his mind, to not let his weaknesses appear clearly…

A knock on the door. Richie hesitated, before allowing the person, whoever it was, to enter. His mom came into the room, sitting on the bed with a soft smile, tinged with sadness:

“Hello, sleepyheads. Is everything okay?”

Eddie didn’t raise his head, didn’t make any movements to indicate that he knew that Maggie was there, by their sides. Richie kept caressing his hair, trying as hard as he could to hide how scared he was, forcing another smile on his lips:

“Hey, mom. I’m alright. Eddie’s waking up. We…”

Richie couldn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t even know what he wanted to say. What he could say. He couldn’t find a suitable joke, anything to reassure his mother, anything to make her laugh. He felt… numb. Awfully numb. He bit his bottom lip, focusing his whole attention on Eddie. He didn’t have it in him to talk, to entertain anyone. He wanted to be left alone. With Eddie.

“I know it must be hard, but I think you should get up. Went is downstairs, he took some days off. We prepared a nice breakfast, everything you love, Richie, Eddie.”

Richie didn’t want to leave his bedroom. He didn’t want to go downstairs and face his family. He just wanted to bury himself in his bed for the rest of the day, the week, maybe forever. But Eddie was there. Eddie needed to eat, to drink. He had his therapy session today. Richie couldn’t just stay in bed, not without hurting Eddie in any way.

“Okay, we’re coming. Eddie, we’re getting up.”

Eddie didn’t move. He was still sucking on his fingers, his head buried in Richie’s torso. Richie touched him softly, trying to get his attention:

“You must be thirsty, hungry. Come on, Eddie. You remember how your day is usually going, right? First, shower, then breakfast. We’ll also change your bandages. Okay, Eddie?”

Richie wanted to cry. Eddie wasn’t reacting. Why? What could he do to get him out of his headspace? Of whatever was happening in his mind? He didn’t have the answer. He didn’t have a fucking answer! What a fucking friend he was!

“Maybe if you’re getting up, he’ll follow you...” His mother suggested, caressing Eddie’s hair as well, trying to get a reaction out of him.

Eddie was still hugging him tightly. Getting away from his grip wasn’t going to be easy. Richie didn’t want to force his way out. He didn’t want to hurt Eddie in any way, either by opening one of his wounds or by making him feel like he was rejecting him.

“Eds, I can’t get up if you’re hugging me. We need to get up to go to the bathroom. Do you understand?”

Eddie stopped sucking his fingers, using his second arm to hug Richie even tighter. Great. Fucking great. Richie couldn’t stop himself from letting out a painful whine. Eddie’s hug was pressing just where it hurt the most and Richie wasn’t able to hide it from him or his mother, no matter how much he tried to do so.

“Richie, sweetie, are you okay?”

“… ‘Am fine, Mom. F… Fine.”

He wasn’t. It hurt. It fucking hurt. But if it made Eddie feel better, he would allow him to hug him like that forever. Something that his mother wasn’t ready to accept, apparently. She got up from the bed, going to Eddie’s side, putting her arm on his:

“Honey, you’re hurting Richie. Can you let him out?”

Gently, she tried to get him off Richie. As soon as she did that, Eddie let out a panicked wail, so loud that Richie had to clutch his ears for a second. He only stopped when Maggie did, silent again, shaking slightly. Richie sighed, trying to not think about how much he was actually suffering, caressing Eddie’s cheek:

“Eddie, Eds… I’m here. We’re safe. We’re at home, with Mom and Dad. We’re going to take a shower and eat a nice breakfast, okay, Eds? But I need you to let go of me, Eddie. I can’t get up if you don’t release me. It...”

Richie hesitated, but he finally whispered, feeling guilty that he would even let him know that:

“It hurts, Eddie.”

Eddie finally stopped hugging him. One of his hands grabbed his plush, while he put back his other hand’s fingers between his lips, sucking on them nervously. Richie got up, grimacing painfully. But Eddie didn’t move. He was still curled up on the bed and Richie could see how haunted his look was. His expression was blank, almost vacant, but his eyes were telling a whole other story. Filled with fear. Pure, unaltered fear.

Richie helped him up and Eddie let him do so, pliant in his hands. He followed Richie and his mom to the bathroom, Maggie taking his slate for him, Richie’s hand on his shoulder, but he didn’t make a move to take away his clothes. He stood there, swaying slightly on his feet, sucking on his fingers. Richie felt his throat closing up and it was with a weird voice that he managed to ask:

“Eddie, you remember what happens, right? When you have to take a shower? You’re undressing all alone, right?”

Eddie was looking at Richie, but it seemed like he was looking past him. He wasn’t showing in any way that he understood his words, that he knew what he had to do. Fuck, it was even worse than before. Richie almost wanted him to get angry, to say that someone was supposed to help him to do so, anything that at least reminded him of something they went through before. That he knew how to deal with. It wasn’t anything like this.

“Eddie, honey, you have to take off your clothes, before going to the shower. Can you do that for us?”

Maggie almost begged him, but Eddie still didn’t move. She relented and started to undress him. Richie turned his gaze away, avoiding to look at Eddie. He couldn’t. He couldn’t see the wounds on his skin. The way his body was bruised. He just couldn’t.

Eddie was pliant, allowing Maggie to take off his clothes, to put his plush away for now. But as soon as he stepped in the shower, as soon as she put her hands on his naked skin, something went wrong. Eddie screamed, avoiding her touch, curling up against the wall. He couldn’t stop screaming and he started to hit his head, so violently that Richie had to stop him to prevent him from getting a concussion.

“I’m sorry, honey, I’m so sorry! I… I didn’t…”

Maggie was crying, distressed, at a loss with what she was supposed to do. Eddie was still screaming, eyes closed, struggling against Richie’s grip to try to hurt himself. Wentworth barged into the bathroom, ready to take over if necessary. But Richie wasn’t sure it would be a good idea. Eddie needed familiarity. Stability. He needed _ him. _

Richie tried to figure out why Eddie reacted that way. What could have possibly set him off. And suddenly, he remembered what happened. What Bowers said.

“Eddie? Eddie, it’s okay. Don’t believe any of the shit Bowers said to you. I know that you didn’t like it when your mother washed you. We won’t touch you anywhere you don’t want to. You can do it all alone, I know that. You don’t need your mom, you don’t need us. You can do it all alone.”

Richie repeated his last sentence, again and again, until Eddie finally stopped struggling. He let him go, hoping that he didn’t hurt him, watching over him. Slowly, Eddie started to shower, unsure in his movements, but doing it anyway. Richie felt a surge of relief coursing through his veins. It wasn’t much, but it proved that Eddie was  _ there.  _ That he remembered that he could do this stuff, even if it was hard for him.

Richie let his father know that he could go back downstairs. His mom left the bathroom, but stayed behind the door, asking Richie to warn her when Eddie was done, so that she could change his bandages. Richie sat on the floor, sighing. It was clear now that what happened really hurt Eddie, in a way Richie still had to fully apprehend. It was unfair. It was so, so fucking unfair.

When Eddie finished, he started to dress himself up clumsily, but Richie had to stop him, explaining him softly:

“Mom has to patch you up first. Then you can put on your clothes, okay?”

Eddie stopped and Richie warned his mom. She came into the bathroom, gathering the supplies she needed and leading Eddie out, to allow Richie to shower. Richie looked at himself in the mirror, through his prescription glasses (until his other pair was repaired). He looked awful. His broken nose was the worst. Richie tried to psych himself up, thinking that it was a warrior’s wound, but it just reminded him that Hockstetter wrecked him. While Bowers was hurting Eddie and Richie wasn’t able to stop him.

Richie cleaned himself, taking care of his wounds as the hospital staff showed him to do so. He still had to ask his mom to help him with some of them, unable to treat them properly. Richie felt guilty, forcing her to take care of him like that. His mother wasn’t showing it, but it was clear that she was shaken up. He hated to force her to play nurse with him.

They were finally ready for breakfast. Richie took Eddie’s hand, leading him downstairs. He didn’t sit until Richie told him so, looking at what was displayed on the table, but not touching anything. After what happened in the bathroom, Eddie went back to sucking on his fingers, hugging his plush tightly with his other arm. He still hadn’t touched his slate, that Maggie had put right next to him, in case he wanted to write on it.

Richie bit his bottom lip, letting Eddie know with a gentle voice:

“It’s okay, you can eat. Whatever you want.”

And Eddie did. Richie tried to stay positive about the whole thing. At least, Eddie was feeding himself. And he was choosing what he was eating, not asking for permission, not hesitating. It… It was good, right? It was something, right?

They were eating in silence, but not the usual comfortable silence that Richie liked. No, this one was heavy. Anxiety inducing. Richie knew that he should be the one to break it, as usual, but he didn’t have the strength. He could barely stand the fact that he was outside of his room, surrounded by his parents, in the real world. This fucking real world who hurt them so much…

Maggie cleared her throat awkwardly, articulating hesitantly:

“I… I hope Dr. Park won’t be late. Traffic was a nightmare, these last few days...”

Richie shrugged. He didn’t have it in him to make small talk with anyone. Not even his mom. He appreciated the attempt, though. She tried, at least.

His father was the one who managed to clear the silence. He didn’t truly try to interact, per se. He just started to talk about his work, in this intense way he sometimes manifested, that could lead him to talk for hours if Maggie didn’t let him know that it was too much. But she didn’t try to stop him this time. Everything was better than this heavy silence between them. Even hearing about rotten teeth while they were eating.

When Eddie was done with his breakfast, he curled up on his chair and proceeded to bite his plush’s ear, his look hazy. Richie tried to get his attention, but Eddie was somewhere else. Probably trapped in his memories. Richie himself felt that he couldn’t escape them, no matter how hard he tried. They were there, haunting him, making him feel so small, so weak, so  _ pathetic _ . Richie started to feel tears on his cheeks. He wiped them quickly, Bowers’s voice echoing in his mind:

…  _ crying like a little girl… _

These words were addressed to Eddie, but they still fucking hurt. Richie didn’t want to cry. Not in front of everyone. Especially not his parents. Or his friend. His fucking best friend. That they hurt so much because of  _ him.  _ Because of his fucking feelings.

“… Bathroom. Be right back.”

Richie ran to the room and bent over the toilet. He was retching, but couldn’t get himself to vomit, even though the foul taste was here, in his mouth. A knock. Tiny fingers scraping the door. Desperate whines. Richie immediately got up, opening the door. Eddie was standing there, crying, hiccuping. As soon as he saw Richie, he hugged him, burying his head against his torso. Richie caressed his hair, his heart beating too fast:

“I’m sorry, Eds. I’m fine. I’m here. I’m not leaving. We’re safe here, I swear.”

Leading him back to the kitchen, Richie asked his parents to check on the backyard for journalists and nosy people. Eddie might feel better, with a bit of fresh air. But it wasn’t possible right now.

“I’ve seen some people out there. Looking suspicious.” Wentworth sighed. “I told them to scram, but I can’t be sure if they're actually gone. They must have heard what happened. Wanting to take good pictures of you two.”

Richie clenched his teeth, trying very hard to control his anger. To stay calm when Eddie was there, hugging him, so fucking close. He didn’t want to scare him. Not after what happened.

“Those fuckers… Guess we’ll have to squat the couch until Dr. Park’s there.”

Richie led Eddie to the living room, inviting him to sit on the couch. Eddie immediately took place on his knees, hugging him, hiding his face from everyone else. Richie hugged him back, careful to not hurt him. His parents were there as well, looking at them. Richie sighed.

“Okay. I’ll explain what happened.”

As soon as Richie said that, Eddie stopped hugging him and covered his ears, letting out a whine. Richie hesitated, but let him do so. He wasn’t sure of what he was supposed to do right now. Dr. Park would know better. Probably.

“Bowers and his gang just decided to have their little fun, for old times’ sake. They beat me up and they made me watch Bowers hurting and bullying Eddie. I guess they were bored. Greta Keene stopped them, thankfully.”

Richie didn’t want to give any details. He didn’t want to let his parents know about the slurs, the violence, the homophobia, the ableism. Just the gist of it. It was enough. It was fucking enough. Just saying that made him feel like crap. He wanted to bury himself under his blanket and never come out again.

Eddie was still clutching his ears, humming loudly to make sure he wouldn’t hear what they were talking about. His eyes were closed, his face tensed. Richie was hugging him and caressing his hair, his cheek, his skin, but Eddie wasn’t relaxing in any way.

“Jesus, son. I…” Wentworth seemed at a loss with words for a moment. Which wasn’t usual for him. “We need to do something. That went on for too long. This… this brute should be in fucking jail. Locked up somewhere. Anywhere!”

Wentworth was angry, in a way Richie had never seen him. It was almost scary, witnessing his father’s fury, even though it wasn’t directed at him. Richie took a deep breath, before sighing.

“What can we do? It’s fucking Derry. Sheriff Bowers won’t let his son get arrested. Henry Bowers’s immunity also protects his friends. As long as his father doesn’t see him, he’ll get away with it. Like he always did.”

Richie was tired. Tired of this town. Tired of its people. Tired of everything. Derry was always like fucking hell to him. They didn’t take too kindly to the hyperactive kid and neither did they with his homosexuality, even if he wasn’t out, even if they couldn’t be sure of anything. He still remembered all of the graffiti in the bathroom stalls, back in school. Slurs everywhere. Thrown at his face, at everyone who might gaze upon them.

But he didn’t want to talk about it. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t sure he would ever be ready, to be honest… Not in front of Eddie either. Eddie should never know. Fuck, all of those things Bowers said to him. How much did he truly understand from that? Richie didn’t dare to ask. Not that Eddie seemed ready to talk about it anyway. He was still clutching his ears and humming, shaking on his knees. Refusing to hear. Protecting himself as much as he could.

“I don’t want to stay here. When Eddie’ll start to feel better, we’ll move out. I don’t know how long it will take, but we have to leave this fucking shithole. We have to leave Derry.”

Richie wiped his face, his breathing a bit too fast. Moving out… It seemed so easy when he said it like that. But it wasn’t. Richie never left Derry for too long. He never lived without his parents. How would he manage? He had to find another job. And Eddie… Eddie needed stability. Routine. Comfort. He was just getting familiar with his new life. Richie couldn’t just shake his whole world like this, once again. They needed time.

But it had to happen. One day or another, they’ll have to leave Derry. Richie would do anything to ensure that they would do so. That they would move to another town, where they could just live their life and tell everyone else to fuck off. No more violence. No more fear. Just… Just a simple life. That’s all he was asking for. Nothing more.

“Richie, sweetie, these things take time. I know that Derry is not ideal, far from it, but at least, we’re here and Mike is there as well. If you move out, you’ll be on your own.”

“Mom, I’m twenty. Maybe it’s fucking time for me to leave, you don’t think so? I can’t stay with my parents forever. I’m not a fucking kid anymore!”

His tone got aggressive, something he didn’t control, something he didn’t want to happen. Richie apologized softly, feeling tears rolling down his cheeks. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Now that he started, he couldn’t stop. His parents got closer, letting him know with gentle contact that they were there for him. That he wasn’t alone. Even Eddie, after a while, stopped clutching his ears, hugging Richie, letting out a worried whine:

“I’m… I’m fine, I swear. It’s just… It’s a lot. It’s a fucking lot.”

“Maybe you should call your therapist, see if you can get your appointment early? It might help you.”

Richie offered a smile at his father, nodding at his offer. He wasn’t ready for a phone call, right now, though. Later. After Eddie’s session. Or tomorrow. He didn’t know. He was just tired. So, so tired. They found themselves silent again, unable to find a topic to talk about, to get out of this numb feeling that was plaguing them all, in different ways. Until the bell rang.

Eddie clutched his ears once again, but only for a short moment.

“That must be Dr. Park. You want to greet her, Eddie?”

Eddie shrugged, but he let go of Richie and got up. His hand went looking for Richie’s and Richie squeezed it tenderly. He wasn’t sure if he was doing it for Eddie or if Eddie was doing that for him, to be honest…

When they opened the door, Dr. Park gasped at the sight that was presented to her:

“Oh, dear! What happened? Are you okay?”

“It’s a long story. I… I think Eddie’ll need to talk about it during his session. I… Can I stay with him?”

Richie wasn’t sure Eddie could handle being alone right now. He couldn’t either. Not seeing Eddie, not knowing for sure that he was okay, that he was by his sides… His mind was trying to play tricks on him and having Eddie nearby at least assured him that he wouldn’t lose himself in his anxiety. Eddie was there, with him. They were safe. Safe, safe, safe.

“Richard? Can you hear me?”

Richie raised his head, startled, jumping a little. Dr. Park was looking at him with concern, but not a worry that felt patronizing. She wasn’t taking pity on him. She wasn’t treating him like glass. She was just… concerned. He appreciated it. Richie smiled weakly:

“Yeah, sorry. I was just… somewhere else.”

“I can imagine it. Where do you want to have your session, Edward?”

Eddie didn’t answer. He was burying his face in Richie’s torso, staying away from Dr. Park. Richie tried to get him to talk, but to no avail.

“I… I think he’ll feel better in our room. He’s… That’s where he likes to be. Besides, he knows exactly where he can hide if he thinks it’s necessary.”

Under the bed. That’s where he went when he had awful nightmares, bad days, when he needed to be alone. He crawled down there, not coming out until he was calmer. Or asleep, allowing Richie to grab him and get him in the bed, under the blankets.

“You’re okay with that, Eddie?”

Eddie didn’t answer. He didn’t even nod. Richie sighed, but Dr. Park smiled:

“Okay, to the bedroom it is. I’ll follow you, wherever it is.”

Before going there, Dr. Park greeted Mr. and Mrs. Tozier, grabbing Eddie’s slate as well. Richie heard her saying that they should make sure to not eavesdrop on the session, to allow Eddie some privacy. Richie really appreciated it. He felt a little bad for intruding, but with the way Eddie was hugging him, he wasn’t sure it would be possible for him to attend his session otherwise. Next time, maybe. He’ll leave him alone, if Eddie felt ready for it.

Richie sat on the bed, Eddie right next to him. His friend started once again to suck on his fingers and he didn’t make a move to reach for his white slate. Richie sighed. It wasn’t going to be easy… But if someone could get Eddie out of his shell, if anyone could make him talk, it would be her, right? Dr. Park could do that, right? He had to hope for it. Richie had to trust her. And to trust Eddie as well. They would get through it. One way or another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, I did say that I was going to write Eddie's session, but by the time I arrived to it, I've already written what I usually write for my chapters and I didn't want it to be too long. Besides, I'm getting tired and I need to be fully focused for the next chapter to come. Also, it will allow me to write it from Eddie's POV and it's better that way c:.
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter! Don't hesitate to comment and/or leave kudos! Always happy to read your thoughts about what I wrote c:. You're really the best readers I could have hoped for. 
> 
> Have a nice day! See you soon!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Here's the 17th chapter! I hope you'll like it! Thank you all for your support! I'm just about to have more reviews than on my first installment, the fact that you're all there showing your support and writing such kind words means the world to me! Thank you so much!
> 
> I hope you'll like this chapter. I really enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> Here are the trigger warnings:
> 
> TW for internalized ableism  
> TW for homophobic slurs  
> TW for r-word  
> TW for mention of homophobia  
> TW for mention of ableism  
> TW for self-harm
> 
> I think that's all. Don't hesitate to tell me if it's not the case! I'll edit them if I need to do so.
> 
> Good reading!

Everything was a blur. Eddie’s mind was a mess, cluttered with confusing thoughts and muddled memories, that he had a hard time to give a sense to. Maybe he didn’t really want it, after all. He was so tired. Feeling Richie’s heat and skin under his fingers was what allowed him to stay somewhat grounded, even if he wasn’t truly interacting with the rest of the world. Knowing that he was there, hugging him, touching him, hearing him, feeling his breath… Eddie needed that, more than ever.

He was having some difficulties to understand what everyone was saying, around him. Their voices were all distorted, echoey, as if they were trying to talk to him through a wall or from a faraway place. Answering them was too hard. He couldn’t even properly form words in his mind, string them in a coherent sentence. How could he hope to communicate understandably?

When he wasn’t in this sort of comatose state, Eddie was screaming. Fighting the bad memories and what came with them. It invaded his mind in rapid flashes, voices and images that hurt him, flooding him with feelings that he couldn’t process. On top of that, Eddie was suffering physically, although probably not as much as Richie. They really hurt him. Badly.

Eddie wished he could have protected him. Or, at least, allow him to run away from them. He knew that Richie would never have left him behind, but still. He felt guilty. Awfully guilty. And he had no way to express any of that. To understand it fully, to process it, to let people know what he was thinking. He felt… trapped. And Eddie hated it. He hated it so much.

Richie was there. That’s what helped Eddie to have some grip on reality, to stay strong in spite of what happened. Not seeing him was torture. Even for a few minutes. He had to run to the bathroom when Richie did as well, scared, so scared for him. He knew where he was, he knew that he would come back, but Eddie couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stop his mind from thinking that someone was hurting Richie and that he wasn’t there to help him. To stay with him, no matter what.

The only reason he didn’t try to reach out to him when Richie was taking his shower was Maggie. Maggie and her sweet touch, her soft words, reminding him that he was safe, repeating this sentence as much as needed, keeping him grounded. Taking care of his wounds, reaching out to him even if he didn’t seem to understand or to answer in a meaningful way. Eddie knew what she was doing for him. And it was a lot. A lot more than most people in his life ever did for him.

And now, Dr. Park was there. For his therapy session. Eddie liked her, but he wasn’t in the mood for that. He just wanted to stay alone with Richie, was it too much to ask? Make sure he was okay. Keeping him company. Hugging him in a way that let Eddie know, without a doubt, that his friend was there with him. Safe. Not out there, where people could hurt him. Because of Eddie.

But he didn’t try to hide, he didn’t try to run. He just sat on the bed, with Richie by his side, sucking on his fingers, gripping his friend’s sleeve with his other hand. As long as they were together, they would be okay in the end. No matter what happened. Eddie knew it. 

Dr. Park’s voice reached his ears all garbled. Eddie couldn’t understand a single thing she said. He looked at her for a few seconds, before giving up and dropping his head down. What was the point anyway? He didn’t want to talk. He wanted to forget and stay with Richie. Where no one could hurt them.

She said something to Richie, who got up quickly before coming back immediately, so fast that Eddie barely had the time to get that he was gone. Pulling out his fingers from his mouth and wiping them on his clothes, he hugged Richie tightly anyway, as if to say to him that he shouldn’t go again. Not without him. It was dangerous out there. Out there was a very loose concept, right now, in Eddie’s mind. Out of their home? Out of their bedroom? Out of his arms’ reach? He wasn’t even sure. Dr. Park gave him familiar objects, that Eddie recognized after a few seconds of cogitation. The cards she used when they met for their first therapy session. He flipped through them, again and again, the repetitive motion soothing him and helping him to focus, to understand what was said to him.

“How are you feeling right now, Edward?”

How was he feeling? It should have been simple to answer, but it wasn’t. Eddie felt many, many things and he couldn’t put a word on them. He kept flipping through the cards featuring emotions, discarding those he couldn’t identify to. He kept a few, showing them to his therapist: sad, angry, confused, scared. It wasn’t allowing him to express fully what he felt, because it was too complex, but it was a start.

Dr. Park smiled encouragingly to him, disposing the cards on the nightstand next to them. She adjusted her position in the chair she was sitting on, asking Eddie:

“Do you want to talk about what happened?”

Eddie immediately shook his head. He took back the cards he put aside and started to flip through them once again, nervously, quickly. No, no, he didn’t want to! It was a bad memory and he wanted to forget it. He couldn’t be happy with this memory, so he needed to bury it and never think about it ever again. Just like he needed to forget about his mom and the awful therapy he went through and everything else…

He didn’t realize right away that he started to hum loudly, still flipping through his cards. Richie caressed his hair, but it wasn’t enough to chase away the anxious feeling that was invading him. Everything was getting mixed up in his head, what happened with Bowers, what happened with his mom, everything. He didn’t know what really happened or not, every image in his mind seeming as realist and vivid as the one before. 

Eddie started to hit himself and Richie stopped him, trying his best to not hurt him in the process. Eddie was about to scream when his therapist’s voice reached him, asking him softly, as if everything was normal:

“Can you do an exercise for me, Edward?”

It was surprising enough for Eddie to actually stop, calming himself down. He took his plush and hugged it with one arm, nodding to show that he heard Dr. Park and was listening to her.

“From now on, when you feel that you’re going to hurt yourself, I’d like you to do this.”

She raised her hand, bending her thumb so that it would touch her palm. Then she closed her fingers on her thumb a few times, clutching it slightly. Intrigued, Eddie imitated her. The sensation was… weird. He could feel his fingers cracking a bit, thanks to the motion, and his thumb was odd to touch. 

“You can do that as many times and as quickly as you feel necessary. It’s giving you something to focus on, without having to hurt yourself in the process. I’m not expecting you to do it automatically immediately, but I’m hoping that, in the long term, it might help you to reduce your tendencies towards self-harm.”

Eddie nodded, repeating the movement a certain number of times, until he felt calm enough to know that he wouldn’t hurt himself. Dr. Park smiled, stopping the motion as soon as he did:

“Thank you for trusting me, Edward.”

Eddie saw Richie trying to do this as well and a faint smile appeared on his lips, until it vanished. Leaning on his friend, he did his best to focus his attention on Dr. Park:

“I understand that you’re not ready to talk about what happened, Edward. This is your session, you’re in control of what’s happening. You’re the one who decides how things are going.”

Richie nodded at her words, caressing Eddie’s hair. It was really weird for him, this whole idea… He never was in control during his old therapy sessions. They wanted him to do things and he had to, otherwise, he would be punished. Or it wouldn’t end until he complied. Being in control like that… Eddie wasn’t sure if it scared him or if he felt good about it. It was… confusing.

“During our last session, I gave you an exercise, Edward. Finding three things that made you feel positive feelings, three things that made you feel negative feelings. Would you like to talk about that with me?”

Eddie thought a bit about that. Maybe it would do him some good to talk about good things. At least, he shouldn’t have to talk about… about what happened. He nodded, taking his slate for the first time this day. 

“You can start with whatever you want. You don’t have to use too many words, if you don’t know how to talk about it. Richard could help me fill the gaps, if you’re both okay with that.”

“Yeah, of course. No problem.” Richie said, smiling and winking at Eddie. Eddie offered him a clumsy smile, nodding as well. He was relieved to know he could count on Richie. He wasn’t sure he could do that on his own, right now. 

Tapping on his slate, Eddie thought really hard about what happened to him during this week. His mind kept trying to remind him what went down the day before, but Eddie didn’t want to. His first idea shined through his dark thoughts and he wrote slowly on his slate, biting his bottom lip, focused on what he was doing

_ Chocolate cake. _

Dr. Park read what he wrote, before asking him, with an interrogative tone:

“You ate a chocolate cake?”

Eddie shrugged. He did eat a cake, but that wasn’t what mattered. He wrote another word, slightly grimacing from the pain. He had to find a better way to use his pen… Why was it so hard and painful? It wasn’t like that before… before all of that.

_ Cooking. _

“Oh. I didn’t know you liked cooking. That’s a good skill to develop. Care to share a little bit more?”

Eddie raised his head towards Richie and Richie instantly took over, ruffling his hair:

“While I was seeing my therapist, Eddie baked a chocolate cake for me… and my dad too, I guess. Mom was there to help him, but he did it mostly on his own. It was the best cake I ever tasted. Don’t tell my mom, though.”

Dr. Park laughed at his joking tone, while Eddie was hiding his embarrassment in Richie’s shoulder, facing away from his therapist:

“I won’t tell her, I promise. You must have been proud of yourself, Eddie, and you have every right to be. Cooking is not an easy skill. I almost burned my whole apartment once, while trying to reheat my pasta.”

Eddie looked at her, clearly bewildered. He couldn’t believe it. Dr. Park was smart and clever, everything that he wasn’t. How could she mess up like that? It was… It was so weird to think about. 

As if she could read his thoughts, Dr. Park said to him, still smiling:

“That’s true, you know. I don’t talk much about my personal life to my patients, but when I do, I’m never lying. Cooking has never been my thing. The fact that you were able to cook something, that your friend thought was tasty, is undoubtedly a skill. Something to be proud of. I can understand why it made you feel positive feelings.”

Eddie didn’t know what to say. He let out an awkward whine, eyes down, face red. Richie laughed, hugging him:

“I keep telling him that he’s awesome! Eds doesn’t know how to take compliments at face value. You should, Eddie. You’re really the best.”

Eddie hid his face in his hands, letting out another whine. He didn’t see Dr. Park signaling to Richie that he should stop teasing him. When he raised his head once again, she was smiling at him, in this peaceful way that helped him to feel calmer:

“Is there something else that comes to mind? Anything?”

Eddie thought a lot, flipping once again through his cards to give himself something tangible to focus on. Something that made him feel happy… Hmm…

Eddie let out an excited noise, writing too quickly on his board. Richie had to translate for Dr. Park, who wasn’t used to the way Eddie’s writing could get awfully messy:

_ Bangor. Burgers with Richie.  _

“Oh yeah! I took Eddie to Bangor. First time he left Derry. Conscious, anyway. But that’s on him to tell you this story, if he feels like it.”

Dr. Park nodded, signaling that she wouldn’t push the issue right now. Eddie was relieved. He clearly didn’t want to talk about his mom right now. Or anything negative anyway. Could he just focus on positive things? It was way easier to talk about.

“Anyway, I bought us burgers and I took him to this cool spot, where you can see all of Bangor and its lights when it’s nighttime. We ate here and we talked a lot. It was super fun.”

Eddie added, giggling at the thought:

_ First time eating burgers. _

Dr. Park raised an eyebrow at his words, but she quickly went back to her usual expression:

“It sounds really fun. It’s good that you can do this kind of thing with your friend. Enjoying the small pleasures that life can give you along the way. Did you like what you ate?”

Eddie smiled and started to flap his hands, but he had to stop, wincing in pain. Richie immediately worried, asking him in a scared, small voice:

“Eds, you’re okay?”

It hurt. But the pain stopped being sharp, going back to the dull feeling that Eddie had experienced most of the day. He let out what he hoped would be a reassuring whine, curling up by Richie’s side. He let out a soft sigh when his friend started to caress his hair once again. He truly liked it, when Richie did that…

Dr. Park encouraged him to focus back on what he was saying and Eddie wrote on his slate, slower to make sure he wouldn’t feel this sharp sting of pain again:

_ Really good. Tasty. Looked disgusting though. _

Richie smiled at his words, supplying for Eddie:

“Eddie’s not quite used to eat greasy stuff. He had a very bland diet. I’m trying to show him that food can actually be tasty. And enjoyable.”

“That’s a good thing. Lots of autistic people have trouble to diversify what they’re eating. Edward needs to find out what he likes and what he dislikes. And you should be free to discover that, without being forced to do so, Edward.”

Free to do this, free to do that… It was really, really disconcerting. Eddie almost felt that he was losing himself in this ocean of choices. He started to clench his hands into fists, as Dr. Park showed him before, letting out a weak whine. Dr. Park understood his anxiety and decided that it was time to change the subject:

“So, you described two positive things to me. Is there a third one that comes to your mind?”

Eddie thought about it for a long time. There wasn’t an event that particularly stood out. But there was something that always made him happy, no matter what. He smiled softly, writing a single word on his slate:

_ Richie. _

Dr. Park read his slate, before looking at Richie with an interrogative gaze. Richie read his slate, gasped audibly, before shaking his head at her silent question.

“Can you elaborate a little bit more, Edward? I’m not sure I understand what you’re referring to.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, annoyed. It was obvious! Richie. Richie was making him feel positive feelings! When he was with his friend, Eddie felt happy, enjoyed, satisfied. He had this warm feeling coursing through his body and, even though it was weird, it was also very satisfying! How could she not see that? Richie was right there, in front of her!

He underlined Richie’s name multiple times, getting frustrated, until Richie caressed his cheek to get his attention:

“I don’t understand either, Eds. You need to put more than just my name.”

Eddie greeted him with a look full of disbelief. Really? Richie didn’t get it either? Eddie let out an audible groan and hid his face in his hand for a short while, trying to think about what he could write. He finally added on his slate, looking at Richie and Dr. Park with a gaze that expressed how he clearly thought that they were a bunch of fools right now:

_ Richie positive. Make me feel positive feelings. Positive things. _

Richie made a strangled noise at his words. Dr. Park gave him a quick look, before elaborating hesitantly, focused on Eddie:

“You… You mean that you’re happy when you’re with Richard, Edward? Am I understanding that correctly?”

Eddie nodded, raising his arms in a way that spelled out “Finally!” to Richie and Dr. Park. Richie seemed strangely relieved that Dr. Park came to this conclusion, while she tried to get Eddie to talk about it a bit more:

“I do remember that you told me that Richard made you feel happy during our last session. So, I’m guessing it’s a general feeling, not attached to any particular event. Do you want to elaborate on that? Why being with Richard makes you feel happy?”

Eddie nodded enthusiastically, while Richie was burying his face in Eddie’s shoulder. He let him do so, too happy to notice how embarrassed his friend was by the whole thing. He wrote a whole list, showing it to Dr. Park proudly:

_ Funny. Kind. Make me feel safe. Treat me like an adult. Listen to me. Richie cool. Feel good when I sleep with him. _

Richie read his words and suddenly experienced a coughing fit, wincing with pain, trying to talk comprehensively:

“… Just… sleeping. No… Nothing else. F… Fuck!”

Eddie raised his head towards Richie, caressing his cheek as he often did with him, showing concern. Richie took a deep breath, finally stopping to cough:

“I… I’m fine. I’m okay. Don’t worry.”

Dr. Park observed them attentively, waiting for a bit before asking to Eddie:

“Wouldn’t you like to sleep alone, Edward? In your own bed?”

Eddie immediately shook his head. He wrote on his slate, showing it to Dr. Park:

_ Don’t like sleeping alone. Feel better with Richie. Feel safe. Richie chase the nightmares. Protect me. Can protect him too. _

“Do you have lots of nightmares, Edward? You can use your cards to let me know how often you have them, if you want.”

Eddie didn’t hesitate for long. He took a card, showing the number “9”. Almost every night, he was experiencing nightmares. Sometimes, he didn’t remember them. Other times, he did. And he didn’t like it at all.

“That must be hard. It’s understandable if you often feel tired. Did you have a nightmare last night?”

Eddie nodded. He did have a nightmare. A scary one. A really scary one. He started to shake, thinking about it.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

He bit his bottom lip, hesitating, before nodding. He wrote very slowly, his face showing progressive signs of fear, terror even. He was clenching his fist, the one who wasn’t holding his pen, while Richie was caressing his cheek, his hair, trying to keep him grounded:

_ Dreamed of Bowers and Mom. Bowers hit Richie. Very hard. Mom told me to stay still and I did. Told me I was a good boy.  _

Eddie didn’t realize that he had started to cry. His mind was getting slowly filled with images from what happened, from what didn’t happen, unable to separate them clearly. Richie hugged him, rocking him slowly as he always did when he tried to comfort him. 

“Bowers was the person who hit you both, right? Whatever happened, it’s not your fault, Edward. The only person responsible is the one who brutalized you this way. No one else.”

Eddie let out an anguished yelp. He struggled to write on his slate, the end result being barely legible:

_ My fault. Didn’t run fast. Richie hurt because of me. Could save him and I didn’t. Couldn’t say please. Can’t talk. Can’t save him. Dumb. Stupid. Retard.  _

“P… Pl’sh… Pl’sh...”

He just had to say this word and Richie would be saved. Bowers and his gang would stop hurting him. He just had to say it. He just had to say it.

“Pl’sh… Pl’sh...”

It was so difficult, talking. It hurt. It hurt physically, it hurt mentally. He had to force it out, but Eddie was ready to do so. For Richie. To save him.

“Eddie, Eddie, I’m here, we’re home. You’re safe. Eddie, don’t...”

Eddie suddenly felt a hand grabbing his. A voice came to his ears:

“It’s 4:37 P.M. You’re in your house in Derry, Maine. It’s November 15, 1996. You’re safe, Edward.”

She repeated those words again and again, always in the same soothing tone, and they slowly started to make sense to Eddie. Progressively, he came back to reality, Henry Bowers and his goons fading from his mind. He blinked slowly, exhausted, while Richie was rocking him, crying as well, whispering with a broken voice:

“Don’t leave me alone, don’t leave me alone, don’t leave me alone...”

Eddie hugged him tightly, trying to ground him into reality. He didn’t know what he should do, unable to talk verbally to him, so he did the first thing that came to his mind. He kissed him on the forehead, as he felt Richie doing so to him a few times, hoping that it might comfort his friend. Richie broke his litany, literally freezing on the spot. Eddie tilted his head, trying to see if it was a positive outcome or not. 

“Richard, are you okay? Do you want to take a break? I can continue this session with Edward, if you both agree to that.”

Eddie waited for Richie’s reaction, but he was still shocked, strangely silent. Eddie hesitated, before writing, showing his slate to Richie:

_ Can go. Stay in the house. Safe here. _

“I… I… uh… I should...”

“Maybe you could drink some water and come back later. It might do you some good, Richard.”

Richie slowly nodded. He hugged Eddie tightly, before leaving the room, bumping into the door while doing so. Eddie took his plush in his arms, curling up on the bed. It felt weird, not having Richie right there. He wanted him back. But Richie was tired and needed some rest…

“Do you want to talk more about what happened, Edward? I can see that you’re tired. The session won’t last for too long, I promise.”

Eddie shook his head, before changing his mind. He didn’t want to talk specifically about what happened. But he did have some things to ask, though… Slowly, he wrote on his slate, trying to be as clear as possible:

_ Bowers said weird things. Talked about my dick and insulted Richie. Told him he was a queer and a faggot. Don’t know what that mean. Called Richie my boyfriend. Don’t get it. _

Dr. Park read his words, before letting out a soft “Oh” that Eddie was unable to interpret. She cleared her throat, seeming a bit uncomfortable:

“Hmm… How to put it simply? Those… words you wrote, there are insults used against gay people. You know what that means, Edward?”

He wasn’t sure. He did remember his mom talking about that a few times, saying that they were “dirty” and that Eddie had to be protected from them, but he never really understood what she meant. And he didn’t dare to ask. He shook his head and Dr. Park explained to him:

“Being gay means that you love someone from the same gender as yourself. A man loving a man or a woman loving a woman, just like a woman might love a man or a man might love a woman.”

Eddie’s eyes widened at her explanation. Was that a thing? Was that even possible? He never saw anything like that on TV, in his movies or his books. A man loving a man and a woman loving a woman? Really?

“It’s not something that is always accepted by other people, especially in a small town like Derry. Close male or female friends might be targeted, even though they’re just friends, as well as people who are actually gay. The person who brutalized you seemed to think that Richie and you were in a relationship. In love with each other.”

Oh… Oh! Eddie felt his cheeks becoming red at the thought. Richie and him… In love. Like in the movies. Like in the books. It was weird. Weird, weird, weird. 

“I don’t know if you’re just friends or something else, but it’s not something to be ashamed of, Edward, if you feel attracted to Richard. That’s not something that you can’t control, that’s not something that you chose. I would not advise you to engage in such a thing right now, though. Especially after what happened. You both need time to recover and starting a relationship currently might put you both in a very delicate and stressful situation.”

Eddie was starting to get overwhelmed. He never thought about those things. Especially not about Richie. But Richie did make him feel  _ good.  _ Good and happy and warm and…

Eddie let out a distressed whine. Too much. Too much. Too much. Dr. Park managed to get his attention, guiding him through a breathing exercise to calm him down:

“Take your time, Edward. Focus on your well-being. The rest will follow naturally. You shouldn’t try to rush things or to dwell too much on it.”

Easy for her to say… All he could think about was Richie. And his warm feeling. Why did he felt so warm? Was he… Was he…?

Breathe, Eddie, breathe. Richie came back into the room and Eddie immediately erased what was written on his slate. Dr. Park took the hint and got up, smiling at Richie and Eddie:

“It was a very good session. Thank you for trusting me and talking to me about those things. You must be exhausted, Edward.”

He was. He truly was. He started to yawn, rubbing his eyes. He was tired, but he felt less bad. Less heavy. It wasn’t perfect, far from it, but he did felt a bit better. Even with all those new questions invading his mind…

Eddie curled up on the bed, nodding distractedly when Dr. Park asked him if he could do the same exercise that he did for their next session. It wasn’t long before he started to drift off, a soft sigh coming out of his lips when Richie’s arms closed on him. He was right there where he belonged. With the person that he loved. Even though he wasn’t totally sure in what way he did...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Okay, I didn't plan at all to have the chapter ending on that note. Eddie wasn't even supposed to mention Bowers' slurs and all until a later session. Guess my fingers decided otherwise x). 
> 
> In case it's not clear, though, Eddie and Richie are still pretty much traumatized by what happened. Even though Dr. Park managed to ground him a bit, it's not something that will go away in one session and with just a few kind words. While I didn't go through something as awful as they did, I was badly bullied when I was young (and as an adult as well) and it's still traumatizing, even though I talked about it for almost two years to my therapist. It gets easier to handle, but it's still a difficult subject for me and I have relapses here and there. 
> 
> I just wanted to make sure that it was clear. I don't like the romanticization of mental illness and neurodivergence featured in a lot of Hollywood movies and other pieces of media, as if loving someone would suddenly make everything easier. They still have issues to work through and Eddie starting to realize that he might have feelings for Richie is not going to be an easy path to take either. 
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter! Don't hesitate to leave comments and/or kudos! I'll answer you as soon as possible!
> 
> Have a nice day and thanks again for your support! You're the best readers an author can hope for c:.
> 
> Edit: that moment when you want cookies sooo much that you forget what your character baked before xD. My bad.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Here's the 18th chapter! I can't believe it, I have received more reviews for this installment than the first one, who's actually finished. Thank you so much for your support, it means so much to me!
> 
> I'm stuck at home until next June, so writing keeps me busy and your reviews, the short ones, the long ones, the ones that are actually helping me to improve my writing and the way I'm conveying my thoughts, they help a lot.
> 
> I hope you'll like this chapter. Here are the Trigger warnings for this one:
> 
> TW for internalized homophobia  
> TW for mention of homophobia  
> TW for homophobic slurs  
> TW for internalized ableism  
> TW for mention of racism
> 
> Don't hesitate to let me know if I missed something! Good reading!

It didn’t get easier. Richie had hoped that a few days later, after what happened, he would be able to go back to his usual self. Even if it meant to hide his feelings behind his stupid jokes and his big smiles. He was used to it. But Richie’s thoughts were still plagued with Bowers and his gang, their hits, his venomous words. The way he hurt Eddie. When he closed his eyes to try to get some sleep, Richie was back there. On his knees, at the mercy of Bowers’ gang, unable to protect Eddie.

He couldn’t help, but feel guilty about what happened. Even if he heard what Eddie’s therapist said, even if he knew that Bowers and his friends were the ones who hit them, who hurt them. Richie was supposed to support Eddie. To help him recover. Instead, he put him in harm’s way and endangered him in too many ways. He should have seen it coming. He was supposed to be smart, for fuck’s sake!

Neither Richie nor Eddie was ready to leave the house for now. His mom tried to coax them into accompanying her to do some groceries, but Eddie started to panic and Richie as well, even though he tried not to show it. They were safe here. Not out there. Out there, there were people like Bowers. People who would hurt them just because they felt like it. Just because they thought it was  _ funny.  _ The idea made Richie feel nauseous. How could someone be so… so… he didn’t even have the words for it.

So, they stayed home. Mostly in Richie’s room. It was easier, just being with Eddie. His parents were awfully worried and, even though he could understand them, it was still unbearable, their looks, the way they carefully chose their words, the awkward and heavy silence between them… 

With Eddie, it was different. Eddie was as scared as he was. Maybe more, maybe less, Richie wasn’t so sure. Since his therapy session, he had been a little more communicative, but it was still nowhere near the progress he had made so far. They spent most of their days close to each other, touching the other’s skin, as if they had to make sure that they were really there for one another. 

Eddie wasn’t trying to spare him or spare his feelings. He didn’t look at him like he was a precious, fragile thing that could break at any moment. The way he looked at Richie, it was… it was indescribable. It made Richie’s heart beat so fast that he swore it would fly off of his body, sooner or later. When they were together, Richie felt safe. But he was supposed to be the one who provided this reassurance to Eddie. Eddie needed him. And he felt so weak. So damn weak…

Richie had been used to wake up hearing Eddie experiencing various nightmares, trying his best to console him and protect him from his fears. But the roles had been reversed and Eddie hugged him during the night when he woke up with tears rolling down his cheeks, broken sobs coming out of his throat. A bit too tight for his wounds, not something that Richie would ever complain about, though... Not when it was Eddie, doing his best to support him.

But Eddie needed him too. He needed Richie when he was stuck in his mind, reliving the events they went through. Eddie needed him when he forgot the things he was able to do. Richie was there to remind him that he was capable of way more than he thought, that his mother, Bowers and the others were wrong about him. He was not dumb, stupid, or any of the awful things that were thrown at his face constantly and that he internalized even more after what happened.

Eddie was smart, kind and he was so, so fucking brave. Much more than Richie could ever be. Richie admired him, the efforts he was making to recover from everything that he had to go through, his constant progress, despite the recent setback. Meanwhile, Richie was still pretty much the same. Struggling with his low self-esteem, his internalized homophobia, unable to cope with the person that he was. He’d give everything to be the person that Eddie truly needed, but it was impossible. He was stuck with what he had, which wasn’t a lot. 

Richie knew that Eddie would be angry if he could hear his thoughts. Eddie hated it, when he started to spiral in self-deprecation. He was absolutely convinced that Richie had tons of qualities, just like he said to his therapist. Richie could never make eye contact with Dr. Park after that session… He was happy to have been here to help Eddie, but… but…

That night, Richie had barely slept. He spent most of his time touching his forehead, thinking about the feeling of Eddie’s lips on his skin, trying to memorize it as faithfully as possible. It would probably never happen again, so he might as well enjoy what he had been given. He had no idea why Eddie acted that way and he didn’t dare to ask him. Maybe Eddie didn’t think it was weird. Maybe he would put awkward thoughts in Eddie’s head and his friend would feel embarrassed to be close to him, like they were right now. Better not to risk it.

Today, Eddie was practicing his writing, sitting on Richie’s knees, focused on the lines and lines that he was writing, slowly and carefully. Richie’s father suggested it, to help Eddie get a better grip on his pen and to be able to communicate more easily with what he had for now. Meanwhile, Richie was hugging him, doing his best to chase away the bad thoughts that wanted to invade his mind, focusing on Eddie’s touch, Eddie’s smell.

With his other hand, Eddie was tapping the desk, without much rhythm or reason. Richie was doing the same thing on Eddie’s body, tapping softly with his fingers just like he did. He touched a sensitive spot and Eddie let out an unwilling laugh, his hand trembling and ruining what he had just written. He turned his head towards Richie, giving him an annoyed look:

“What? I haven’t done anything! Not my fault if you’re ticklish! Not my fault if you’re laughing when I touch you right there...”

Richie tapped the sensitive spot once again and Eddie snorted, getting agitated and trying to get away from Richie’s touch. Richie didn’t insist too much, not wanting to hurt Eddie or to be elbowed inadvertently. He chuckled slightly, whispering to Eddie’s ear:

“I like to hear your laugh. When you’ll feel better, I’ll tickle you until you’ll run out of air.”

Eddie shook his head at his suggestion, letting out a very displeased noise, and Richie smiled, hugging him, letting him go back to his work. When you’ll feel better… He hoped that it was definitely a “When” and not an “If”. Eddie deserved to be happy. He deserved the whole world, especially after what he had to handle. 

But for now, Richie appreciated this moment of respite. No meltdown, no crying, Eddie was aware of his surroundings and able to communicate. Richie even managed to make him laugh! He wished this moment could last forever. Them being so close and at peace, away from the rest of the world. Safe from whatever was waiting for them outside. 

But, of course, this moment couldn’t last. Of course, something had to happen. A knock on the door disturbed their tranquility. Eddie jumped slightly, leaving Richie’s knees. He seemed to hesitate for a second to hide under the bed, but stayed still, eyes locked on the door. Richie got up as well, letting the person know that they could enter. 

“Richie? A phone call for you. It’s Mike.” His mother offered him a smile, seemingly hoping that he would accept to take it. To stop isolating himself like that, away from them, away from everyone else. 

Richie sighed, looking at Eddie, who looked him back with an uncertain expression on his face. 

“I can stay with him. Help him with his exercises.”

Richie didn’t want to leave Eddie behind. Even if it was just for a few minutes. But on the other hand, he wasn’t sure that he wanted Eddie to be around while he was talking to Mike. He wasn’t sure he would be able to keep his cool. Mike had his way with words, always knowing what to say to touch Richie’s heart and lead him to speak, to confess, to share what he had to share. To the point that he would start crying on his friend’s shoulder, when he always tried to hide what he was feeling behind his jokes. 

Eddie wrote on his slate, showing it to him:

_ Go. Will continue to write with Maggie. Say Hi to Mike for me. _

Eddie tried clumsily to smile, but the result wasn’t really convincing. Richie stayed still, undecided, but finally started to move when Eddie pushed his back towards the door. Okay, understood. Richie felt a tinge of anxiety, not being able to see Eddie, to hear him, but he walked to the phone, finally taking the call:

“Hey, Mikey Mike. How’s it hanging? Eddie says hi too.”

“Hey, Richie. I’m glad to hear your voice. Everything’s going well for me. The library is too quiet without you two to keep me company, though.”

Richie sighed at Mike’s words:

“Yeah, sorry for that. We’ll… We’ll try to go there when we can. I don’t know when, exactly.”

“Don’t apologize, Richie. It’s understandable. I’d ask you if you feel fine, but I’m guessing you don’t want to answer this question...”

Richie laughed, a laugh that was about to turn into a sob. He cleared his throat, doing his best to stay calm and measured. He wasn’t going to crack like that. Richie was tired of crying. More than that, he was tired of people trying to console him. People that weren’t Eddie. People who had no idea what it was like, being hurt like that. Being attacked this way, just because they were what they were. Different.

Though Mike would know. People weren’t exactly tolerant in Derry. Richie could clearly remember Mike’s stuff being tagged with awful slurs, slurs that Bowers would throw at his face just for the sick pleasure of cutting deep, hurting him profoundly.

“Richie, you’re there?”

“Uh? Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I’ve been kinda spacey, lately. Hard to stay focused on reality when my head is more of a mess than my bedroom. Though Eddie’s helping me keeping it clean. I swear, one day, I’m going to enter my room and see that everything has been categorized and classified and I won’t be allowed to sit on my bed or to touch anything. I bet he’d sanitize my whole room and my clothes if he could...”

For once, Mike allowed him to lose himself in one of his jokey rants. It didn’t last long. Richie went silent quite quickly, unable to decide what to say, wanting nothing more than to go back to Eddie and forget what happened. Which he was currently unable to do, talking to Mike like he was right now.

“… You wanted to say something, Mike? I’ve left Eddie to talk to you, you know.”

Richie didn’t want to sound like that. As soon as the words came out of his lips, he felt guilty, awful. But he really wanted to go back to Eddie. He needed to check on him, make sure that he was okay. And… and he felt vulnerable without him. Weak. Even more than usual. He apologized once again, his throat closing up. Richie was truly the worst...

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay. And I’d like to ask you something.”

“Go on.” Richie wasn’t sure he would like what Mike had to say. But he couldn’t just hang up on him. Mike was his friend. It wasn’t his fault if Richie was such a mess…

“I was thinking I could take you both to Bangor. I know a nice tea house, it’s not too crowded and it’s usually calm. We were planning on going out together when it happened, so I was thinking we could...”

“Mike, thanks, but Eddie’s not ready to leave the house for now. You can still come by, though.”

Richie heard Mike sigh at the other end of the line and he started to fidget with his glasses, slightly uneasy:

“Richie, I know that what you went through, the both of you, was horrible and traumatizing. But you can’t keep using Eddie as an excuse for your own fears and you can’t stay locked up in your house forever. I can understand that you might not want to roam in Derry for now. But we could take my car and drive to Bangor. I’ll be there with you at all times.”

“I don’t want to go, okay? Besides, a tea house, pretty gay, if you’re asking me...”

“Beep Beep Richie. Look, it’s been a week, a whole week. You’ll have to go out at some point. You still have to see your therapist, right?”

Richie did call him, as he planned to do, but while he asked him to reschedule their session, he didn’t try to get one earlier. On the contrary. At the last minute, he asked him to push it back, so that he could stay at home. With Eddie. He wasn’t ready to leave. And he wasn’t ready to leave Eddie behind either.

“… Yeah, at some point. I guess.”

“You should. The guy looks decent, from what you told me. It’s going to help you. But if you don’t want your session to be the first time you leave the house, you might want to reconsider my invitation.”

“Mike...”

“I’m serious, Richie. It’s also for Eddie’s sake. Right now, he must be terrified at the idea that you or he might leave the house, correct?”

Richie nodded, before remembering that he was on the phone and that Mike clearly couldn’t see him.

“Y… Yeah.”

“Don’t you think it’ll be easier for him to come out with you, with us? That he’ll feel less anxious letting you go to your therapist if he can have a good time outside before it’s happening?”

He wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t wrong and yet… and yet…

“Mike… I’m scared.”

Richie confessed weakly, shaking, his eyes getting watery.

“Richie...”

“I’m really, really fucking scared, Mike. I don’t know if I can…”

The end of his sentence was lost in an ugly sob. Mike let him the time to pull himself together, a time that Richie clearly needed right now. He took a deep breath, managing to get a bit calmer:

“S… Sorry. I’m fine, I just...”

“Don’t apologize, Richie. If you apologize once again, you’ll pay our tab. And I’ll order the priciest stuff I can find, I swear.”

Richie laughed weakly at Mike’s words:

“I believe you. I… I don’t know, I just…”

“We’ll be away from Derry, in a very nice, cozy establishment. I can call them beforehand to make sure they’ll book us a table in a quiet place. If you’re okay with that, I can talk to them briefly about Eddie as well...”

Richie bit his bottom lip. He wasn’t very comfortable with the idea of disclosing Eddie’s diagnosis without asking him first. They would notice as soon as they’ll talk to him, but it should still be his choice.

“Don’t. I… I need to convince him first anyway. I’m not sure he’ll be ready for that, you know? It’s still fresh, we aren’t healed, it’s…”

Richie sighed.  _ He  _ wasn’t ready for that. Mike was right, he had to stop using Eddie as an excuse to hide his cowardice.

“I’m going to ask him, okay? I’ll call you back when it’s done.”

“I’m waiting. Take your time, Richie.”

He could feel Mike’s smile in his voice. How was he doing that, seriously?

“I… Thanks, Mike. You’re the best. ‘Later.”

Richie hung up, taking a deep breath. He hoped Eddie wouldn’t panic or get angry. He had no idea how he was going to react to his proposition…

*

Richie certainly didn’t predict that Eddie would actually  _ accept.  _ He was a bit anxious at first, but when he knew that they would be in Mike’s car for the whole trip and that they were going to Bangor, he agreed, as long as Richie was coming as well. Eddie was really braver than he was, that’s for sure…

Eddie had put on one of Richie’s sweatshirts, something he tended to do every time they were going outside. It made Richie feel all fuzzy, seeing Eddie float in his clothes, rubbing the fabric in a soothing movement. He was sitting next to him, while Eddie was struggling with his shoelaces, his hands shaking. He was scared, Richie could see it. And yet, he shook his head when Richie offered him to stay back, to reschedule the whole thing.

Richie felt like an awful coward, hoping that Eddie would reconsider, that they could stay home. But he pretended that he was fine, that he wasn’t scared out of his mind. That he didn’t want to lock himself in his room and never leave it again. Because Eddie was brave. And he needed to be brave as well.

Eddie was still battling with his shoes and relented when Richie offered him his help after a while. He was shaking too much, which was making an already difficult task near impossible. Richie wouldn’t blame him for needing help. Nor he would tease him for that. Eddie didn’t need that from him. Especially not right now.

Richie checked Eddie’s bag once again, something that helped him to stay calm and keep a straight face. They took his plush, the cards his therapist gave him to help him to communicate if necessary, a small lot of pens for him to write on his slate. Okay, everything was there. Nothing was missing. They only had to wait for Mike now.

He arrived quite quickly, saluting Maggie, complimenting her on her hair. Richie rolled his eyes at the scene:

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a charmer, we all know that. Can you stop flirting with my mom, dude? I know you’re sex-deprived, but...”

“Beep beep Richie.” His mom and Mike said, exactly at the same time. They both laughed, while Richie sighed dramatically. He was hoping that his mother might keep Mike occupied for a moment, asking him about his work and his life, but she was quick to say goodbye, wishing them to spend a nice afternoon out there. She probably guessed that Richie wanted to delay that as much as possible, which would probably make it even worse…

Eddie took Richie’s hand, holding it tightly. Richie squeezed back, trying to fight the anxiety that was clouding slowly his mind. He counted in his head, took a deep breath, and finally got out of his house. He was quick to climb in Mike’s car, but not before making sure that Eddie was comfortably installed by his sides, on the backseat. No way Richie was going to sit in front, far from Eddie.

At first awfully anxious, tapping a rapid rhythm in Eddie’s palm, Richie started to relax progressively, while they were leaving Derry behind. Fuck, he really hated this town. And most of the people that were inhabiting it. Eddie was resting against him, humming softly in tune with the song that Mike put on the radio. He looked calm, but Richie could see him from times to times repeating the gesture that his therapist taught him to fight his self-harming tendencies. Clenching his fingers on his thumb, quickly, again and again. He was nervous. He was terribly nervous.

Mike was right: the tea house was really cozy. And quiet. The people that were here wanted to drink their tea in peace, an atmosphere that Richie would feel compelled to ruin usually, but that he would just appreciate right now. They made them sit in the back, where it was a bit darker and there were fewer customers. Perfect. No one to judge them. No one to look at them. No one to wonder if they’d recognize Eddie from somewhere. Or even him. Fine.

Seated next to Richie, Eddie was doodling on his slate, shaking his legs, using his other hand to hold Richie’s and squeeze it tightly here and there. Richie appreciated the gesture.

“I come here from time to time when I need some peace. It’s the perfect place to read a good book. Or to write it. Bill and I took the bus a few times to spend some time here, when he was still there with us. It helped him find inspiration. I was just happy to be there and to allow him to share his ideas with me.”

“D’you think Big Bill will finish one of his books one day? How is he doing? And everyone else?”

Richie didn’t try to call them, not since Eddie came back in his life. He was truly an awful friend… Probably sensing that he was about to lose himself in self-loathing, Mike immediately answered, while glancing at the menu:

“He’s about to finish one, actually. He told me that he was arguing with his creative writing teacher about his ending.”

“As if he’s going to let someone tell him what to do...”

Richie chuckled. Eddie raised his head as soon as they mentioned Bill and their friend, suddenly very attentive. Richie offered him a smile, before asking Mike:

“So, what about Bev? Ben? Stan the Man? Still stuck in his boring degree?”

“Yes, unfortunately. Bev told me that she’s trying to get him to quit. He’s really interested in ornithology.”

“As always.”

“But he’s scared of his father’s reaction if he were to quit his course to study birds. We were hoping we could convince him during the next vacations. They’re all coming home.”

Eddie started to flap his hands excitedly but had to stop quickly, wincing with pain. Richie massaged his wrists tenderly, smiling at Mike:

“Really? That’s cool. I miss them.”

“I miss them too. It’s not the same, without them. Derry feels… empty. Toxic.”

Richie bit his bottom lip, muttering under his breath:

“Yeah, tell me about it...”

Mike was about to say something when a waiter interrupted him, wanting to know if they wanted to order something. Eddie blushed, realizing that he didn’t even look at the menu yet. He started to hum anxiously when Richie caressed his cheek:

“Relax, Eddie Spaghetti. I didn’t choose anything yet either. Take your time.”

The waiter left to take care of other customers, while Richie and Eddie were reading the menu. Richie picked the most sugary option, as he always did, while Eddie was still hesitating, struggling to make choices.

“Keep cool, Eds. There’s no wrong choice.”

Eddie nodded, his eyebrows furrowed with concentration, before writing on his slate:

_ What’s the healthiest option? _

Richie shrugged his shoulders:

“Don’t ask me, I’m the one who’s ordering something that will probably lead me to diabetes sooner or later.”

Eddie looked at him with a horrified face and Richie supplied quickly, not wanting for him to get anxious for nothing:

“That’s a joke, I swear. I’m fine. I need sugar, my hyperactive brain and body are constantly craving for it. Ask Mike for a healthy option. He’ll know that better than me.”

Mike got up from his chair, looking at the menu with Eddie. He advised him on a few possible options, leaving Eddie the final choice. He settled for jasmine tea and, while their order was prepared, wrote on his slate for Mike:

_ Still didn’t tell us how Bev and Ben are doing. _

Mike smiled at his words:

“They’re fine. Ben is the first of his class and Bev is about to take part in a life-changing fashion show. She's been selected among her classmates to do so.”

Richie whistled, apologizing quickly when Eddie covered his ears and whined weakly.

“And they’re still platonic roommates or Bev finally cracked and threw herself at Ben, since he doesn’t have the balls to declare his love?”

“Beep Beep Richie.”

Mike looked at him intently and Richie had the decency to lower his head for a few seconds. As if he was better than Ben, sappy Ben, in this domain… But Ben didn’t have to fear being called disgusting or a freak or anything like that. He was a man loving a woman, as society intended them to do. The perfect, wonderful, fucking love story.

“As a matter of fact, Ben is planning to confess to her. He called me a few days ago, panicking because he didn’t know what restaurant he should book a table at and if he had to prepare a gift for her as well or if it would be too much. He settled for a poem and a rose bouquet, in her favorite place to eat.”

“I’d throw up if I wasn’t so happy for him! Bev’s going to say yes, for sure. I remember the lovey-dovey looks they kept exchanging, it was disgusting...”

Eddie didn’t try to intervene during the conversation. But he seemed really focused, particularly now. He was probably getting impatient at the idea of seeing his friends again. Richie couldn’t find any other explanation for his sudden surge of focus.

“I can’t wait to see them all. We need to celebrate New Year’s Eve together. And to plan our Christmas day as well. Christmhanukkah, I mean. That’s how Stanley calls it, right?”

“I think he prefers Hanukkahstmas.”

“Pff, Potato, Potahto, it’s basically the same.”

Eddie took a sip from his tea, before writing on his slate, showing it to them:

_ Need to buy presents for everyone. I have money. Lots of money. _

Richie laughed at his words:

“Show-off. You don’t have to do anything, Eds. Besides, we’ll probably settle for a common gift. Like a pricey meal at a restaurant or a day in a theme park or something. For some reason, the Losers don’t really like my wonderful, amazing gifts.”

“You offered Stan a shirt with a birdie printed on it. And I don’t mean a cute bird.”

Eddie snorted, which made Richie feel very, very satisfied.

“See? It’s funny! I’m a real comedian!”

“Yeah, you’re a real clown. I should book one for our Hanukkahstmas.”

Richie gasped at Mike’s suggestion:

“You wouldn’t!”

“Why not?”

Mike smirked while Richie refused to admit that he hated clowns. That he feared them, even. 

“No fucking way. And it’s Christmhanukkah, anyway! It rolls better on the tongue. Like your granny’s vagi...”

“Beep beep Richie!”

Mike’s offended expression cracked quickly and he started to laugh. Richie did as well and Eddie followed. Some customers gave them bad looks, but Richie didn't care. It was… It was fun. Richie felt good. Better than before. 

“Thanks for taking us here, Mike. You were right. It’s cool.”

“I’m always right, Richie. Don’t you know that?”

Richie smiled, drinking his sugary tea. He liked it here. It felt safe. A bit like home. Maybe he should come here again, later… With Eddie, of course. Away from his parents, for a while. Away from Derry.

He couldn’t wait to leave this fucking town behind for good. But now was not the time. They needed what they had at home. A support system, solid and loving. Once they’ll be able to go through their day without it, though… Richie looked at Eddie, ruffling his hair affectionately. He still needed to talk about that with him, though. Moving out, it would be a big, big change. He wasn’t sure when Eddie would be ready to do that…

But he had to remember that Eddie was strong. Brave. Much more than Richie would ever be. He shouldn’t underestimate him like that. Who knew? Eddie might strive out there. Away from this stupid town. With Richie by his sides. As his faithful best friend. The role that Richie was ready to assume for him, no matter what he truly felt for Eddie. No matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory "Mike is the best". I'm always happy to write him. I can't wait for the Losers' return, it's going to be awesome!  
> Richie still has a lot to work on, but he has Eddie, Mike and his family to remind him to take care of himself from times to times. Eddie's working on himself really hard as well. They're doing what they can to recover, it's not an easy situation. But they have each other and everyone else, at least.
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter! Don't hesitate to comment or leave kudos. I'm always happy to read what you thought about the chapter I've written. Have a nice day! See you soon!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Here's the 19th chapter, I hope you'll like it! Thank you for your support, I'm always happy to know that you're still reading my story. I hope you're doing well c:.
> 
> Here are the Trigger Warnings for this chapter:
> 
> TW for internalized ableism  
> TW for casual ableism  
> TW for self-harm
> 
> I think that's all! Good reading!

It should have been easier, letting Richie go to his therapy session. Eddie knew that he would come back, as he did last time he went there. He knew that, reasonably, logically, and yet… yet, he wanted to keep him there. With him. Thanks to Mike, Eddie was able to remember that the whole outside world wasn’t just made of Derry and people like Bowers, but still. It was still difficult, watching him drive away, for god knows how long…

Maggie immediately decided to keep him busy, before he could even think to sit on the stairs and wait for Richie to come back. Right now, they were playing chess together and Maggie was winning. Usually, Eddie would have been pissed off, but he couldn’t focus on the game or be invested enough to care about his loss. His eyes kept wandering towards the window, while he was sucking distractedly on his fingers, trying to keep away the anxiety that was tormenting him.

Going out with Richie was one thing. Of course, Eddie had been scared. Scared and awfully anxious. But he was able to be brave for his best friend, to find the courage to battle his fears and be there for him as well. Richie always tried to protect him, but he forgot that he needed support as well. And Eddie was there for that. He was there for his friend. Best friend. Maybe differently from a friend.

Eddie blushed at this thought, carelessly moving a pawn and letting Maggie capturing it easily. He still didn’t know what to make of his discussion with his therapist. He had troubles to figure out his own feelings, to understand what was going on in his head, in his heart. Was he in love with Richie? He tried to compare it with what he felt with Mike, but it didn’t help him much. Of course, he felt something different with Richie, but Richie was his _best friend_. It was supposed to be another kind of relationship than just one with a simple friend, right?

Richie was the one who talked to him first. Who made the effort to reach out to him first, when he never had any friends before. Richie taught him how to swim. He knew how to make him laugh, even when he just wanted to cry, and Eddie felt so good when he was in his arms. But all of those things… they could as well be attributed to friendship, right? To Richie being his best friend, right?

“Eddie, honey, it’s your turn.”

But did he want to do certain things with him? Things that lovers did? Eddie couldn’t say for sure. He didn’t even know what it was like to kiss someone! But he knew that it could carry tons of diseases, even worse than handshakes. That’s what his mom told him, anyway. He didn’t want to make Richie sick. 

But Maggie and Went kissed all the time and they were usually healthy, so that was probably okay to do. Even then… What would it be like? Eddie was completely lost. And he was even more confused when it came to… to sex. He could barely think about the whole thing. Derry’s secondary and high school weren’t too keen on sex education and Eddie only knew the basics. And also that he was supposed to abstain from sexual intercourse until he was married.

But nothing about how it happened between two men and there was also the fact that he couldn’t get married to Richie, even if he wanted to. Should they abstain indefinitely? Why was he even thinking about that? Eddie was getting more and more confused and there was this weird feeling in his body, that he didn’t know what to make of. 

A hand on his. Eddie jumped, startled, but he immediately calmed down when he realized that it was only Maggie, who was smiling at him gently:

“Your head is not really in the game, I can see that. We should probably do something else. Or maybe you’d like to talk about what makes you so distracted?”

Talking about his feelings towards Richie? To Maggie? But she would find it weird, right? Besides, he didn’t even know where to start. He wasn’t sure that he was in love, for a start. That would be a good place to begin, right? To be sure about his feelings before spilling the beans like that, especially to Richie’s parents. He didn’t want to upset them. They might be, since they basically treated them like they were brothers. But Richie wasn’t his brother. He was… He was…

“I know it’s not something you can really control, but you shouldn’t dwell on what happened. Your body is slowly healing and your mind will as well. But you need to give it the fuel to do so. Obsessing over what happened will only harm you in the long term. Especially if you don’t talk about it.”

Oh. So Maggie wasn’t talking about his feelings. Of course, she wasn’t. How could she know? But she was talking about something he didn’t want to think about, though. And he did talk about it, briefly, with his therapist. But it wasn’t easy. And it was even harder with people that truly cared about him. He didn’t want to hurt them. 

He couldn’t find the right words to do so. It consisted mostly of feelings, images coursing through his mind, haunting his dreams and his thoughts. How to transcribe that into understandable sentences, when he was already struggling normally to properly convey what he was thinking, what he wanted to say? It was so intense, so brutal, too much to just put into words. 

Eddie had started to hum nervously, hearing Bowers’ voice echoing in his brain, his venomous words thrown at him. Maggie decided to drop the subject, getting up from her chair and joining Eddie, caressing his hair softly:

“We could still watch a movie. There’s one that I think you’d absolutely like. Richie won’t admit it out loud, but it’s definitely one of his favorite movies.”

Eddie focused on Maggie, managing to push back his dark thoughts. Richie’s favorite movie? He wanted to watch it! He really wanted to watch it! Eddie flapped his hands excitedly, a motion that almost didn’t hurt him now. Maggie chuckled at the sight. 

“I’m taking that as a yes. Let’s prepare ourselves a big mug of hot chocolate before, though. And pull out the fluffy blanket. There’s nothing better than watching a movie in good company and with all the comfort that you can have.”

And so they did, preparing this nice moment that only belonged to them, forgetting about the rest of the world for a while. Eddie never had this kind of complicity with his mother. They did watch stuff together sometimes, but it was always her shows and she certainly didn’t prepare him a hot chocolate to drink while watching them with her. But now, it was happening.

Eddie always felt weird when he started to think about this kind of thing. A part of him felt guilty and wanted to apologize to his mom, who wasn’t even there anymore to defend herself. But there was also this other part that was happy to be able to experience all of those things that he never did and appreciated before. And he didn’t know what to make of that. Better to bury it for now and to focus on the movie.

Eddie was curled up under the blanket, sucking on his fingers, focused on the movie. He didn’t know what to think of it at first, but he quickly took a liking to “Princess Bride” and was completely absorbed by what was happening on the screen. Westley particularly endeared him and Eddie wondered if he was looking at Richie the same way the farm boy was looking at Buttercup. Hard to tell. Should he try to look at Richie while he was standing in front of a mirror? But that would be weird, right? How to explain that to Richie if he noticed his behavior? He would find him ridiculous, that was for sure!

Eddie was completely invested in the story, distraught at the moment the narrator announced that Westley was dead, when the phone rang. Eddie clutched his ears and groaned painfully at the sound. Maggie apologized, pausing the movie. 

“I’m sorry, honey, I really need to take the call. It might be something important.”

Eddie didn’t protest, but he truly wanted to keep watching the movie. Even though they already killed the best character! A shame, a terrible shame! He couldn’t imagine how the story would progress without Westley to love Buttercup. She was so alone, on her farm. She didn’t seem to have any friends either. She reminded him a bit of himself. Always alone, until a certain someone noticed her and knew exactly how to get her attention. And now, she was alone again. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all.

Eddie was pulled out of his thoughts by Maggie’s voice, who was getting agitated on the phone.

He listened to her, wondering if everything was okay, if Richie was having troubles:

“Please, Mr. Brown, give me this chance! I know that I don’t have a lot of credentials, but I’m very motivated and...”

She went silent, pacing around the room, while the other person was probably talking. Eddie didn’t know what was happening, but she seemed upset. Really, really upset.

“Yeah, I bet that other person is younger than I am, right? I guess an old woman like me isn’t attractive enough to sell your shit to your customers, uh? I see how you looked at the candidate that you interviewed before me. You’re disgusting. Go fuck yourself with a cactus.”

Maggie hung up brutally, so much that Eddie let out a whine unwillingly. She whispered a brief apology, trying to smile, but it wasn’t long before she started to tear up. She hid her face in her hands, falling on the couch. Eddie could only look at her, feeling uneasy, not sure of what he was supposed to do. He awkwardly patted her hand and her hair, before finally hugging her as she did when he was upset.

She laughed weakly, whispering softly:

“You… You’re really nice, honey, but you’re strangling me a bit.”

Eddie adjusted his strength as best as he could, not wanting to hurt her. In this position, he couldn’t quite grab his slate to write, so he was only able to whine and vocalize his concern, hoping that she would understand. Maggie wiped her tears, taking a deep breath:

“I’m fine. I’m fine. It’s just… another job that I won’t get hired for. It’s not like I’ve been allowed to work more than two months in the same fucking place since I’ve been fucking fired for the first time.” 

Eddie didn’t know how to help, how to make her feel better. He didn’t understand why people wouldn’t hire Maggie. She was Richie’s mom, she was an amazing person who did so much for him. If he had a job to give to her, he would, without any hesitation. But he wasn’t even working himself, so how could he do that? Eddie kept hugging her, softly humming, trying to comfort her in his clumsy way. He didn’t like to see her sad. She deserved to be happy, the happiest person in the world. Just like Went. And Richie, of course.

“I know that we’re not in dire need of money. That we’re able to eat enough every day, to have this roof over our heads and all. But I’m not really housewife material, you know? I miss working. Even if it’s just a day or two per week. I want to feel useful.”

Her last words struck a nerve, a feeling of shame invading Eddie’s mind and heart. He wasn’t working. He wasn’t even sure he could. Did that mean that he was useless? He couldn’t even talk on the phone, like Maggie did, why would anyone hire him if they weren’t hiring her? Someone who couldn’t even tie his shoes properly? Someone who struggled to write and communicate? No one would want him. No one would need him. He couldn’t be useful, no matter what!

He was useless. He was useless. Eddie’s humming became distressed and he started to pull on his hair, as if he was trying to punish himself for what he was unable to do. Maggie tried to calm him down, attempting to get his attention:

“Eddie, honey, what’s happening? Eddie?”

She caressed his cheek, trying to get him to stop to pull on his hair, but Eddie scouted away from her and pulled even harder, his humming turning into an anxious wail. Useless. Useless. Useless. He couldn’t do anything to help, to contribute to this family that he liked so much. And what if he was in love with Richie? How could he hope to support him if he couldn’t even hold a fucking job?

Maggie tried to get closer to him, but he kept getting away, knowing that she would stop him when he deserved the pain. When he needed it. 

“Eddie, please… Remember what Dr. Park said? What you have to do when you want to hurt yourself?”

He didn’t want to do that! He didn’t want to do her exercise, because he deserved it, he deserved what he was inflicting on himself. He was nothing, but a stupid burden who couldn’t bring anything to the table. Even if Maggie didn’t have a job, she was taking care of him, taking care of the house, doing all of those things when Went and Richie weren’t there. She was working hard to keep their family happy and he… he…

Eddie backed himself against a wall and he curled up, pulling on his hair with one hand, using the other one to slap his forehead, grunting painfully and wailing. Even if he wanted to stop right now, he couldn’t. It was too much. Too much, too much, too much!

Maggie took his hands in hers, shaking them in a slow and regular movement. Eddie struggled at first, but the gesture was strangely soothing and he didn’t resist for long, sniffling and whimpering. Soon enough, he was back to his usual tired self, sucking mindlessly on his fingers, eyes puffy and unfocused. He was still angry against himself, but he didn’t have the strength or the will to keep hurting himself, especially when Maggie was whispering to him words full of support and love. 

Eddie clumsily got up when she helped him to, following her to the couch. He curled up next to her, while Maggie was caressing his hair and talking to him with this soft voice, trying to comfort him from whatever had upset him. He tried to explain to her what happened, but he didn’t even manage to have a solid grip on his slate, who fell from his hands onto the floor.

“Don’t push yourself too hard, honey. Take your time. I’m sorry if I said or did something that might have triggered you.”

He wanted to tell her that it was okay. That it wasn’t her fault if he was useless. But he couldn’t talk and he couldn’t write and he was really, really unable to be useful. Putting back his fingers in his mouth, he sucked on them and found himself lost in his thoughts, Maggie’s voice progressively becoming more and more garbled. His exhaustion finally won him over and he fell asleep on the couch, snoring lightly.

*

Eddie woke up hearing two voices. One that he could easily identify, belonging to Maggie. And the other… he wasn’t sure. Opening his eyelids, he yawned noisily, rubbing his eyes. His head was hurting a bit and he was half-asleep, confused to not feel Richie’s mom next to him as she was when he started to sleep. 

He got up from the couch and what he saw managed to wake him up completely. Maggie… Maggie was talking to Greta Keene. And they were drinking some fruit juice, as if it was totally normal for the young woman to be here, at their home. Eddie raised an eyebrow, confused, yawning once again. He took his slate with him, approaching them cautiously.

“You’re awake, Eddie! Greta came by to check if you were okay.”

Greta Keene… Checking if he was okay. Him. Eddie Kaspbrak. Was he dreaming? He was surely dreaming. Greta squirmed in her seat, seemingly uneasy, mumbling under her breath:

“He looks fine, I’ll go now if you...”

“Nonsense. You saved my boys, I ought to thank you properly.”

“The hospital staff saved them. I merely patched up Kaspbrak.”

Eddie’s memories after the assault were still terribly confused. Barely more than flashes. But Richie did tell him that Greta helped them, so he could only believe her. He approached cautiously, sitting next to Maggie, looking at Greta Keene with a wary gaze. She rolled her eyes at the sight:

“We’re not in high school anymore, Kaspbrak, come on! What d’you think I’m going to do, in your house nonetheless? I’d be stupid if I tried to bother you.”

“Really stupid,” Maggie confirmed, a strange smile on her lips. “I’d slap you if you attempted to do so.”

Greta looked at her with a bewildered expression, visibly unsure if she was joking or not. She cleared her throat, uncomfortable, drinking her juice while Maggie was preparing one as well for Eddie. Eddie kept looking at his ex-classmate, humming anxiously, agitating his legs:

“That’s normal, this weird noise he’s making, Mrs. Tozier?”

“You can ask him. Eddie is perfectly able to answer your question himself.”

Maggie’s smile was clearly forced at this point and Eddie felt hurt, having grown used to people actually talking to him when he was there, instead of talking about him without acknowledging him at all. 

Greta Keene was clearly at a loss here, not knowing how to talk to Eddie after having apologized to him and patching him up. She wasn’t the most caring or understanding person, Eddie was quite aware of that. They were both looking at each other, in awkward silence. Eddie started to shift in his seat, his humming getting louder. He muffled it, putting his fingers in his mouth and sucking nervously on them. Which seemed to make Greta even more uneasy.

“I… uh… You…”

“I advise you to start talking normally to him or I’ll have to make you leave this house immediately, even though you saved my family in the first place. He can understand you and he can answer you if he wants to. Don’t treat him like he can’t.”

Greta let out a nervous laugh. She took a deep breath, before finally articulating, avoiding to look at Eddie:

“Are you okay? Last time I saw you, you kept saying that weird word and you… hmm… you were in pretty bad shape, I guess.”

“And there it is.” Maggie smiled cheekily at the young woman. “Was it so hard?”

Greta rolled her eyes, while Eddie thought about his answer. He was still tired, his head hurt a bit and he felt guilty, knowing that Maggie had to put away her feelings to take care of him. And he was still useless too. He shrugged, finally writing on his slate, taking his time to be legible:

_Still hurt a bit._

“Yeah, I imagine. Bowers really packs a punch. I had an awful shiner in fifth grade, when I refused to date Belch and he came to Bowers to cry about it. As if! Belch was and still is disgusting. I’m never going to kiss someone who spends most of his time burping as if it’s some kind of talent.”

Eddie made a disgusted face at her words and let out an “Ew” quite explicit. Greta laughed slightly, allowing herself to slowly become more relaxed. It wasn’t quite like with Richie or Mike, Eddie could feel that she was still a bit awkward, but at least, she was talking to him and he was able to respond. All alone. He could at least do that.

“He doesn’t bother me anymore, though. I have a deal with Bowers. He’s not going to risk it.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow at her words and she shook her head:

“Not going to tell. Last time I confessed to you about something, my father went to jail because of that.”

A heavy silence followed her words. Eddie didn’t know how he was supposed to react. His first reaction was to get angry, but there was a part of him that wanted him to feel guilty for that as well. Her father was in jail because of him. Because his mom forced Mr. Keene to prescribe medicine that he wasn’t supposed to take. Because she pressured him to do something illegal. 

He knew what it was like to not have a father around. He missed his dad so much, even though he didn’t have many memories of him. Eddie wouldn’t wish that feeling on his worst enemy.

He started to bow his head down, humming nervously once again, when Maggie caressed his hair, catching his attention:

“This is not on you, Eddie. What happened, it’s not your fault.”

She gave a pointed look to Greta and the woman, cheeks red, grumbled:

“It was just a joke. A bad one. I’m not good with this stuff. It was easier to just hate you and to insult you back then. You and your friends.”

Eddie rolled his eyes at her answer, but he didn’t retort, not wanting to stir up conflict. He had way enough of that in his life already. He still wrote on his slate, something looking like a cheeky smile on his lips:

_Aw, you like us now?_

“I… I don’t know! Shut up! I mean, stop writing this bullshit, whatever! I just… Fuck, I don’t know, okay? It’s obvious we’re never going to become the best of friends, but… but you’re not so bad, Kaspbrak. And you didn’t deserve what happened to you. I wanted to tell you that. Make sure you were okay. I… uh...”

She bit her bottom lip, avoiding Eddie’s gaze:

“I was worried, okay? You were super weird and all messed up and I wanted to say hi. I mean, not really, just to check on you, I guess. Fuck, why is it so complicated? Can we go back to me calling you “Tiny Dick” and you yapping like a fucking chihuahua about it?”

Eddie raised an eyebrow at her words and felt betrayed when Maggie interjected that she could see the resemblance in some way. He was not a chihuahua! If he had to be compared with a dog, he’d be a Rottweiler! Or a Pitbull! Something ferocious, for sure! Not a fucking chihuahua. He let out an annoyed noise and wrote on his slate rapidly:

_Not chihuahua!_

Greta laughed at his words, retorting with an amused smile:

“So I guess that you’re okay with me calling you “Tiny Dick”, since you didn’t mention it?”

Eddie groaned and rolled his eyes. He gave her the middle finger, his face red, which only made her laugh more while Maggie was massaging his shoulder, trying to calm him down before it might degenerate.

“I think that’s enough, Greta. Do you have something else to say, something nice preferably, or would you like to go home?”

Greta shrugged. She got up from her chair, stretching her muscles:

“Nice Greta has vanished for the day. Probably for the rest of the week. ’Guess I should head home.”

She saluted Mrs. Tozier awkwardly, before holding her hand towards Eddie, mumbling in his direction:

“Cool to know you’re okay. Don’t shake my hand with the one you put in your fucking mouth, though.”

Eddie sighed dramatically at her words. As if he would ever do such a thing. He let her go, his attention focusing on the door that opened right in front of her as she was about to leave. Richie was back! He got up immediately, wiping his hands before running to him and hugging him happily. Richie had just started to let out a “What the fuck” when Eddie caught his attention, allowing Greta to run away promptly.

“Hey, Eds. You okay? Was that Greta Keene or did I just hallucinate?”

“It was Greta Keene. She wanted to check on Eddie. Make sure he was okay.”

Richie’s face clearly showed his surprise, while he was caressing Eddie’s hair:

“Oh… uh… Good, I guess.”

“She’s a bit rough around the edges, but I think she’s trying to be nice. She seems a bit lonely.”

Eddie wasn’t sure he could ever consider her as a friend. But she did help him and she tried to hold a conversation with him, a normal one, even if it was awkward as fuck. Maybe he could at least stop seeing her as an enemy? She didn’t seem to want to hurt him in any way.

Richie caressed his cheek, trying to get his attention:

“So, Eds, you’re okay?”

He wasn’t really. He was still tired and he kept wondering how he could manage to be more useful, less useless. But Richie just got home from his therapy session and he needed his rest. So Eddie lied, writing on his slate:

_Feel peachy. Good. Super good. Totally awesome._

Richie raised an eyebrow reading his words.

“… Okay, I guess.”

He hugged Eddie once again, whispering to his ear:

“We’ll talk about this tonight, okay? Just the two of us.”

Eddie grimaced at his words. Even in his writing, he was a terrible liar. Richie noticed it immediately. But he was relieved that he wouldn’t have to talk about it immediately. He wanted Richie to have his rest. And he also wanted to put that away as long as he could.

“And you, Richie? Good session?”

“Yeah, but I’m exhausted. I plan on crashing on the couch for a while, if that’s okay with you?”

Maggie nodded, preparing a drink for everyone and putting some pastries on a plate as well:

“No problem. We just started to watch Princess Bride, we could keep doing so.”

“Perfect! Can’t wait to see Inigo, he’s the best character!”

Eddie looked at him with a confused expression and Richie laughed:

“Okay, so you really just started to watch it. Perfect. I absolutely want to see what’s Eddie Spaghetti’s first impression of this movie. It’s fun. I mean, I like the action scenes. They’re cool.”

Eddie didn’t see many action scenes for now, but he already loved the movie. The characters. The love portrayed. _As you wish_ , said Westley, when he wanted to say _I love you._ Eddie didn’t know why, but he really liked the idea. And he loved Westley. Westley who was unfortunately dead…

He was happy to discover that it wasn’t the case, clutching excitedly Richie’s sleeve when the man dressed in black, following Buttercup and the men who kidnapped her, started to talk. It was Westley! He was alive!

His head resting on Richie’s knees, Eddie watched the movie dutifully, taking mental notes. True love… Was it truly that powerful? Was it even real? He started to think that he would have jumped after Richie, as Buttercup did when she finally recognized Westley, following him in his possibly deadly fall, and his cheeks went red. Maybe… Just maybe… he was actually in love with Richie?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it obvious that I love Princess Bride? I just think it was the best film to give Eddie quite a vibe towards "I love Richie and not like a friend". Buttercup and Westley is one of the rare straight canon pairings in movies I'm just completely stanning without a doubt. 
> 
> Anyway, I hoped you like it. I wanted to give Eddie some time with Maggie once again and to allow her to be a bit more vulnerable (and not perfect as well. She didn't mean to hurt Eddie as she did, but casual ableism can hit hard, especially with someone like Eddie). They'll talk about it again very soon. And Eddie's definitely going to talk about it with Richie in the next chapter. 
> 
> Maggie needs all the support as well. She's just not cut for the housewife life, but finding a durable job is not an easy thing. Especially since it's been a while for her and she doesn't really have the profile that they're looking for. At least, she has Eddie to keep her company c:. 
> 
> Don't hesitate to review and/or leave kudos! I'd like to know what you thought about this chapter, if possible :D. Thank you for your support. See you soon!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Here's the 20th chapter, I hope you'll like it! And with his chapter, I officially wrote more words than in my previous installment, damn x)! And I don't think it's going to end soon, although I'm thinking about writing a third installment already. Thank you all for your support and your kind words, you're the ones who make me able to keep on writing and having fun with this story. 
> 
> Here are the trigger warnings for this chapter:  
> TW for internalized homophobia  
> TW for homophobic slurs  
> TW for mention of homophobia  
> TW for mention of homophobic violence  
> TW for internalized ableism  
> TW for mention of casual ableism  
> TW for R-word  
> TW for mention of ableist violence  
> TW for emetophobia
> 
> Thanks a lot! Good reading!

Richie couldn’t run away anymore. He had to be brave, in order to heal. To move on. And it wasn’t easy. It wasn’t easy at all. While he was driving his car, his thoughts were mostly focused on Eddie, that he was leaving behind so that he could see his therapist. How was Eddie doing? Was he okay? Was he worried? Richie hoped he wasn’t planning on isolating himself. He was pretty sure his mom would try to prevent him to do that, but still. She knew better than to force him and if Eddie really wanted to be alone, she would let him do so. Alone with his thoughts. Alone with his fears.

Richie was alone as well. But Eddie mattered more. Eddie’s well-being was the most important thing for Richie. And right now, his friend was not alright. He was slowly getting better, but Richie had clearly seen how anxious he was at the idea of letting him go. Fuck, that was something they were working on, the progress they were both accomplishing before Bowers ruined everything… Fuck him. Fuck him and his gang.

Richie could still hear his words, feel the pain that his goons inflicted him. Beating him up for being different. It wasn’t something Richie chose and he was still struggling with acceptance, which was absolutely getting worse right now. Richie didn’t think he hated himself more than he loathed himself these last days. When he looked at himself in the mirror, all that he could see was a weak coward. A pathetic asshole who put his friend in harm’s way and wasn’t able to protect him.

The car right behind his honked at him and Richie jumped on his seat, shaking his head to ground himself into reality, as much as he could. He was so spacey lately, it was a real concern. He wasn’t even sure it was the best idea for him to drive. But he didn’t want to have to rely on anyone to go somewhere. He didn’t want to have to rely on anyone else, period. He had to be strong. He had to be brave.

When Richie finally arrived, his therapist immediately greeted him, making sure that he was okay, that his wounds weren’t hurting him too much. He gave him a water bottle and Richie thanked him, offering him a weak smile. It was still hard for him, having this kind of expression. He managed to laugh and have fun recently, thanks to Mike and Eddie, out of Derry, but it was just a temporary relief. Richie was still drowning in his shit, unable to pull himself out of it. Every second, he wanted to cry. To scream. To hit something. Anything.

Seated on his therapist’s couch, Richie was shaking his legs nervously, head down. He didn’t want to talk about what happened. He wanted to get back to Eddie and make sure that he was okay. Hugging him. Feeling him close to him. Knowing, without a single doubt, that he was safe. Because, even though he knew it was not rational, he couldn’t help, but think that he was back _there._ Trapped by Henry Bowers and his gang. At their mercy. And Richie wasn’t by his sides to save him. Not that he managed to do so anyway. Pathetic. Weak. Disgusting.

“Richard?”

Richie raised his head, looking at his therapist with a surprised expression. He forced a smile on his lips, fiddling with his glasses:

“What’s with the formalities, Doc? Next session, you’re gonna call me Mr. Tozier?”

“You didn’t answer to Richie. I called you a few times and I figured that something a bit unusual might make you react.”

So he spaced out again. Richie sighed. He had always been prone to daydreaming, not as much as Eddie, but still. And now, it was clearly getting out of hand. He hated his mind. He hated his brain. He hated every fucking inch of his body, of his person. 

“I’m… I’m sorry, Doc. I… uh… I keep doing that.”

“It’s understandable. You went through something terrible, Richie. Traumatic, even. Your mind is trying to adjust to the situation and it’s not an easy or painless process, unfortunately.”

“Eddie went through something terrible. They just beat me up. I’m used to it.”

Dr. Norton raised his eyebrow at Richie’s words. He straightened on his seat, looking at him with a serious and intense gaze, that intimidated Richie quite a bit:

“I’m not Mr. Kaspbrak’s therapist. I’m yours and I have no intention to let you think any longer that your pain doesn’t matter or is less important than what your friend is feeling. That’s not going to help you. You need to acknowledge what you experienced and how it’s affecting you.”

“Oh, trust me, Doc, I’m acknowledging it,” Richie said sarcastically, his voice laced with bitterness. “I’m fucking acknowledging it all the damn time. I just have to look in the mirror and oh, here it is. My fucking face, all beaten up. I keep reliving this fucking event. I keep hearing his slurs. I keep hearing Eddie begging to save my sorry ass and it’s the worst.”

Richie was shaking. He couldn’t stay seated. He got up, pacing nervously around the room. 

“He tried, you know? He did everything he could for me! And I… I just…”

Richie hid his face in his hands, digging his nails in his skin. He felt so powerless. Vulnerable. He promised to be there for Eddie, to help him, to make him happy in any way possible. And… And he couldn’t even save him…

“I keep thinking that I could have done something. If we took the car to go to the library, if I carried him on my back to run back to our house, if I...”

Dr. Norton interrupted his rant with his soft voice, looking at him with this gaze that seemed able to pierce through his mind, unleashing every single one of his secrets:

“You can’t change what happened, Richie. It’s so easy afterward to think about what you could have done, I get it. But it won’t change anything. Your friend is not going to suffer less. The only thing you will accomplish by doing so is to slow down your recovery or even put it to a halt. You can’t change what happened. But you can change how you’re perceiving it.”

Dr. Norton took a deep breath. Richie kept pacing in the room, munching anxiously on his fingernails. He was surprised that his therapist didn’t ask him to stop yet. The school shrink always tried to keep him still and seated, probably more for his own comfort than for Richie’s. Being able to move and pace like that, it helped a bit. He felt like he could focus a bit more on what was happening right now.

“Until now, you only gave me a quick summary of what happened. I’d like to hear the full story if you feel ready to do so. If you don’t, we’ll talk about something else.”

Richie wasn’t ready. But he thought back to Eddie and how he managed to share his nightmares with his therapist, even though he was terrified. He had to be brave as well. He couldn’t keep hiding and running away. Richie sighed, pulling anxiously on his hair. Where to start?

“Uh… We were going to the library to see our friend, Mike. We were planning on taking him out afterward, to share a few drinks and all. Eddie never did this kind of thing before, you know? He was so excited...”

Richie smiled fondly at the thought. They’ll have to do that for real, sooner or later. Eddie deserved to have fun and to be treated like the adult that he was. He’ll be twenty-one years old next year, after all. They’ll all be. Fuck, this idea was so weird to think about…

“Richie?”

“Uh? Oh, yeah. Staying focused. So, uh, we headed out and we crossed paths with Bowers and his friends. They used to bully us pretty badly when we were younger. They keep doing it now. They never really grew out of this phase, y’know? Bowers especially. He’s freaky. I’m wondering when he’s going to kill someone for real… Maybe he already did. Or maybe I’ll be his first victim, eh.”

Or maybe Eddie… The thought paralyzed Richie and his legs were suddenly unable to support his weight. He had to sit down quickly, before falling on the ground from the sudden terror that invaded him. He wasn’t exaggerating. He wasn’t being dramatic. Bowers could have killed them both, this day. He had his knife out, tearing through Eddie’s skin. Richie blacked out shortly from the hits he had taken and he was still hurting right now. 

They… They could have died. They could be dead. A nervous laugh came out of Richie’s throat, while his vision was suddenly blurred with tears. He couldn’t bear the thought. Eddie, dead. After everything he went through. When he was finally starting to be happy, to feel loved, to live his life. Dead. Dead. Dead. 

Richie had quite a hard time to go back to reality, thanks to the help of his therapist. It just never occurred him until now how close they had been to this grim fate. He already thought about his own death, especially after Eddie’s departure, in his darkest moments, but… but now, he just couldn’t think about it. About his death or Eddie’s. Eddie needed him. And without Eddie, he… he…

Richie followed Dr. Norton’s instructions and managed to pull out of his panic attack, not unscathed. He was still shaking and was curled up on the couch when he started to talk again, not wanting to stop when he was finally making some progress:

“I… uh… Bowers mostly talked to Eddie throughout the whole thing. He still threw some… some slurs at me, because of course, he did. I’m used to that, though.”

It was still painful, nonetheless. A burning feeling that made him feel so small, so weak.

“He… He used what was featured in the documentary about Eddie against him. I… I think they brought him back there. To his mom and her abuse. It… It was the worst. I don’t know how much he’s coping with that. Bowers told him that he liked it when his mother washed him, that he was a faggot, a retard. He forced him to talk. To try to say “please”, pretending that he would let me go if Eddie managed to do so.”

Richie wanted to throw up. It was the first time he ever talked in length about what happened. He was reliving it all, the hurt, how powerless he felt, having to watch and listen to Eddie’s whines, how much he suffered. Dr. Norton asked him if he wanted to take a break, do some meditation exercises with him, but Richie shook his head. He needed to get it out completely right now. It was unbearable.

“They made me watch. They forced me to listen. I tried to get their attention off Eddie, but they kicked and hit me and I just… I couldn’t do a single thing. I don’t know what would have happened, if someone didn’t finally intervene and saved us. Eddie kept begging for more than an hour after that. He didn’t react when I called his name, when I held his hand, when I did all of those things that usually comfort him. He… I thought I lost him for good this time.”

Richie couldn’t take it anymore. He retched loudly and Dr. Norton just had the time to grab his trashcan and hold it for him before he threw up, spitting and wheezing. Richie never imagined how painful it would be to hear Eddie talk once again. He never wanted to hear that again. Not if it meant that he would have to suffer like that.

“ ’Am… I’m sorry...” Richie let out in a weak whine, before throwing up once again. His therapist patted his back, making sure that his hair wasn’t in the way and that his glasses weren’t sliding off his face. 

“You don’t have to apologize, Richie. I’m sorry that you had to go through that. No one should have to experience something like that. Ever.”

Dr. Norton gave him a tissue and Richie wiped his face and his mouth, popping a chewing-gum to get rid of the disgusting taste. He came prepared, knowing that it might happen. Fuck, he really hated the fact that his first instinct when he was stressed out was to vomit like that… It was the worst.

He felt a little bit lighter, having been able to share what happened to him. But it wasn’t enough. It still hurt, it was still scary and unbearable to think about.

“I… I felt so weak, you know? I still do. I mean, I’m aware that Eddie and I were outnumbered, that there was no chance in hell that we could take on Bowers and his friends and win, but… I don’t know. I still think I should have done something. That I could have prevented that from happening.”

Richie sniffled. He felt broken. Powerless. Small. So fucking small. They beat them up because they saw that they were different. That they weren’t normal. God, Richie hated this word. Normal. What did it even mean?

“And now, Eddie’s hurting and I don’t know what to do, what to say to help him. I can’t even help myself, so how can I…?”

Richie bit his bottom lip. He curled up once again on the couch, hiding his face, closing his eyes. He was suffering. He was scared. And it was so hard to admit. But he couldn’t hide it, like he usually did. It was too much. His usual techniques weren’t working. He couldn’t pretend any longer. He couldn’t bury it and focus on Eddie, his friends, his family to forget what he was feeling, what he was experiencing. It wasn’t working this time.

“Your priority now is to take care of yourself, Richie. To give yourself the time and the means to recover. What you went through is not something you can just shake off like that. It was painful, cruel, and dehumanizing. You’ll have to accept that what you went through is not your fault and that there was nothing you could do to prevent it from happening. Absolutely nothing.”

It wasn’t easy. Richie kept feeling guilty, his mind filled with “Ifs” and what he could have done to never have to suffer like that. To never have to see Eddie suffer like that.

“It’s who you are, the person that you are, that has been attacked and assaulted so violently. Your core, your identity, your very own being. You need to keep talking about it, to turn it into a simple painful memory, not something that will keep directing your life and your thoughts. You also need to talk with people who can profoundly understand what you went through.”

Dr. Norton offered him a nice smile:

“I’m guessing you didn’t go to the LGBT center I mentioned yet?”

Richie blushed at his words and shook his head. No, he didn’t even call them. Before Bowers’ attack, he was just too scared. And now… Now, he didn’t know. He didn’t want to leave Eddie behind and he felt ashamed at the idea of calling them and going there, knowing how weak he had been. All of those people, they were so brave, assuming their identity, taking part in this association. And Richie… Richie could barely utter that he was gay without feeling the urge to throw up. 

“I really think you should, Richie. If there are people out there who can understand what you experienced, it’s them. It’s a safe space. No one will judge you. There are support groups you could be a part of, but you might also meet new friends. People with whom you’d be able to talk freely about your feelings and who will be able to relate to what you’re saying. It’s a true relief, realizing that you’re not alone in this world. That other people can get you. And who knows? You might inspire some folks as well.”

Richie snorted bitterly at his therapist’s words:

“Really? Me, the repressed Trashmouth, inspiring someone? You’re joking, right?”

Dr. Norton sighed, adjusting his posture:

“I’m pretty sure you don’t realize how brave you are, right now, Richie. How brave you have been all of these years. For so long, you had no one to talk to about who you are and who you love and the only person who you tried to confide into told you that you were in the wrong and that you were sick. And yet, you kept on living, laughing, joking. You got up when you were kicked down, again and again. Even now, you keep on fighting. You’re there with me, talking about what you went through, even though it makes you physically sick, even though it’s scaring you so much. I think you’re very brave. And you should say that about yourself as well, Richie.”

Richie was astonished, mouth agape, unable to find anything to retort or to simply say. His eyes were filled with tears, blurring his glasses. He couldn’t believe it. It was… He… He never thought about these things. He kept thinking that he was a coward, because he couldn’t assume his sexual orientation, because he hid his feelings behind his jokes and his smiles. But he never realized that people could see him that way. That people could truly think that he was brave.

“I’d like you to say it, Richie. I’d like you to say that you’re brave. Can you do that for me?”

Richie didn’t know if he would be able to do so. He rubbed his eyes, taking a deep breath. 

“I… I...”

It was so hard. Richie was so used to self-deprecate and would only allow himself to be cockily and jokingly arrogant, in a way that let everyone know that he didn’t believe in a single word he was saying about himself. But to truly admit something like that? That he was brave?

“You can do it, Richie. I believe in you.”

He could almost feel Eddie’s hand on his, pressing it, letting him know that he was there for him, that he thought those things about him, that he deserved it. That he was brave and that he should say it.

“I… I’m brave.”

It felt so weird, saying it out loud. Richie repeated it once again, a sudden feeling of pride invading his mind, his thoughts. He was brave. He was brave. He was brave. Richie chuckled and felt new tears rolling down his cheeks. Tears that weren’t so sad. Tears that he didn’t hate to feel on his skin.

For a while, they kept talking about other matters. Richie mentioned that he was thinking about going back to work and his therapist encouraged him to do so. Even more right now. Going back to his usual day-to-day life was the best thing he could do, for him and his friend as well. When the session was finished, Dr. Norton encouraged him to call the LGBT center and to go there whenever he could. Richie said that he would and, this time, he truly meant it.

*

When Richie came back home, he was greeted by the fleeting figure of Greta Keene and Eddie’s arms wrapped around him, hugging him tightly. Not knowing how he was supposed to feel about all of that, he settled on being happy to be back and seeing Eddie. But it was obvious that his friend wasn’t feeling fine, not as much as he pretended he was, anyway. Richie didn’t want to put him on the spot and he needed to rest as well, after his good, but exhausting therapy session.

So, he promised him that they would talk later and watched one of his favorite movies, “Princess Bride”, with Eddie and his mom, smiling at how invested and focused he was about it. And Richie almost missed that… It would have been a shame, truly. His father came back from work just in time to watch Inigo Montoya defeat the man who killed his father and to enjoy the happy ending. If only things could be that simple in real life…

It was becoming more and more obvious that Eddie was preoccupied with something, minute after minute. He insisted on helping Maggie when she started to cook and was clearly frustrated when he realized that there wasn’t much he could do. He forced Richie to sit down and refused Went’s help to set the table, writing and underlining on his slate that he could do it alone. 

Eddie almost had a meltdown when he inadvertently dropped a fork while doing so and started to slap himself on the forehead when he knocked his glass down, grunting and whining. He only stopped when Richie hugged him and rocked him slowly, whispering soft words to his ear, and was unable to finish his plate. 

Richie led him to the bathroom, awfully worried. He didn’t like to see him like that. It was obvious that Eddie was suffering, but he didn’t know what triggered that or what he could do to help him. Eddie finally exploded when he found himself unable to button his pajama top and Richie asked him if he wanted some help. 

A loud and frustrated wail came out of his lips. He dug his fingers into his mouth to force himself to shut up, so violently that he started to retch audibly, before biting harshly on the flesh. Panicking, Richie threw himself at Eddie, trying to stop him, terrified that he might choke on his fingers or truly hurt himself.

He managed to take Eddie’s fingers away from his mouth, hugging him with one arm, using the other to help his friend to make the soothing gesture that his therapist taught him before. But Eddie was thrashing around, fighting his grip, screaming and crying. Richie was terrified to make him suffer more, but he didn’t know what to do to pull him out of this state. He urged his mother to leave when she opened their door, not wanting to risk Eddie feeling cornered by too many people.

“Eds, I’m here! We’re home and you’re safe. You’re safe.”

Richie repeated those words, again and again, trying to appease Eddie, to guide him into doing his therapist’s recommended exercise to replace his self-harming behavior. Slowly, but surely, Eddie started to do it himself, quieting down, ceasing to struggle. Richie kept hugging him for a while, until Eddie let out a soft noise. Richie released him, getting up from the bed and kneeling at his feet, holding his hand in his:

“Hey, Eds. You’re back. Did… Did I hurt you?”

Eddie slowly shook his head. His gaze was slightly vacant, his lips parted, but he was able to understand Richie and he reached for his slate and his pen to communicate with him. He was having a hard time writing and Richie was ready to wait as long as necessary for him to talk. When he finally read what Eddie had sloppily written, his heart broke:

_Sorry. Bad Eddie. Have to be punished._

“No, Eddie. You’re not bad, you don’t have to be punished. You’re anxious and I promised you that we were going to talk about it. I’m here for that. I’m here for you.”

Eddie whined weakly, rubbing his eyes, biting his bottom lip. He kept on writing, slowly, at his own pace.

_No, Bad. Useless. Stupid. Retard. Can’t work. Cry like a little girl._

Richie could clearly hear Bowers’ voice saying most of those words. He grimaced, shaking his head to chase away these thoughts. He had to focus on Eddie right now.

“You’re not any of those things, Eddie. I said it before and I’ll say it as much as you need. You’re not stupid. You’re not bad. You’re not a re…”

He couldn’t get himself to say the word. Richie muttered it, before continuing his sentence, squeezing Eddie’s hand that wasn’t holding his pen:

“And you’re not useless. What’s up with that, Eddie? Did something happen? It’s not the first time you said that today.”

Eddie looked ashamed. He struggled to write his thoughts and Richie’s eyes widened when he read his words, what happened to make him think that. He had thought that Greta might have done something to upset him, but he didn’t think that it could be his mom. His mom who was frustrated to have been rejected once again for a job offer and complained that she felt like she couldn’t be useful.

Richie couldn’t get angry at his mom. She didn’t mean what she said and she certainly didn’t think any of that about Eddie. Her words still hurt his friend and he would have to talk to her about it the next day. But right now, Richie had to focus on Eddie and make sure that he would stop thinking this kind of thing about himself.

Leaving his uncomfortable position, Richie invited Eddie to lay down on their bed, turning on their bedside lamp. He caressed his cheek, opening his arms to invite him to a hug if he felt the need for one. Eddie curled up against him, sniffling. Richie shushed him softly, whispering to his ear:

“You’re not useless, Eddie. Mom’s words were a bit clumsy, but she’s not thinking that about you. She loves you, dude. She’s happy to spend time with you, that’s for sure. And she’s fucking proud of you, like I am, like we all are.”

Eddie shook his head. Richie released him so that he could write on his slate, showing it to him afterward:

_Can’t work. Didn’t finish school. Can’t talk._

“Your mom took you out of school, Eddie. It’s not your fault. It’s not because you’re stupid or any of that. You’re not. And I’ll tell you that again, it’s okay if you can’t talk verbally. You’re communicating. That’s all that matters to me. That and for you to be happy. You earned it. You truly earned it, after what you went through.”

Richie stayed quiet for a while, pondering on his next words. He finally said, brushing Eddie’s hair, smiling at him:

“You know, I wanted to let Mike tell you that himself, but he was thinking about offering you a job.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow at Richie’s words, clearly confused.

“It’s true. He’s working all alone and it would help him to have an assistant. You could work a few days per week, help him to keep his books ordered and all. He’s got the budget to informatize the library, but it’s super long and hard, apparently.”

Richie smiled, before adding cheekily:

“Just like my dick.”

Eddie, who clearly didn’t expect it, started to laugh and to wheeze uncontrollably. He managed to calm himself down slowly and flicked Richie on his forehead:

“Ow! You just laughed at my joke, you can’t beep beep me after that! That’s not fair!”

Eddie chuckled at his words, before hugging him tenderly. Richie did so as well, enjoying his presence, relieved to hear him laugh and see him smile.

“Anyway, he really needs the help and you’re basically the only person he can trust in this town to work with him. I have my own job, so I’m automatically disqualified, but he wouldn’t have trusted me with his books anyway. He knows that I’m planning on hiding my porn stash there. He’s counting on you to stop me from accomplishing my evil plan.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, nonetheless laughing at his joke. Richie felt his heart beating faster at the sight, hearing his friend like that. He loved it, when Eddie laughed at his antics. He loved it so much.

“He was planning on talking to you about that, before… well, you know.”

Eddie nodded his head seriously. He caressed Richie’s cheek, trying to provide him comfort. Richie appreciated the gesture, offering a smile to his friend.

“I’m fine, don’t worry. Let’s focus on you. Regardless of Mike’s offer, I want you to know that you don’t have to prove yourself useful. That you don’t have to hold a job or anything like that. This is not what makes you worthy of love, of attention, of affection. It would be perfectly fine if you couldn’t work at all. Some people can’t. And it’s okay.”

Eddie had so much to offer. So many qualities. And what if he proved himself unable to work? That wouldn’t make him less of the awesome person that he already was! That wasn’t what made him so amazing. What made him the person that Richie loved so, so much.

“You’re brave. You’re kind. You’re smart. You’re funny. You’re my best friend. Mom and Dad love you. The Losers love you as well. And none of us think that you’re useless or anything like that. And you being able to work or not won’t change that, I promise. You’ll still be my Eddie Spaghetti, my favorite tiny angry gremlin.”

Richie winked at Eddie, who answered with another flick on his forehead.

“Rude, dude!”

Eddie laughed at his words, before yawning, curling up against him. Richie let him do so, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before Eddie would be asleep. He was obviously exhausted, especially after his meltdown.

“We could go see Mike tomorrow, if you want, talk about this stuff. We’ll take my car, of course. What do you think?”

Eddie yawned once again. He wrote slowly on his slate, falling asleep just after he finished his sentence. He had put his fingers in his mouth, sucking on them softly. Richie looked at him with a gaze full of love for a minute, before reading what he had started to write. And his heart skipped a beat.

_As you wish._

As you wish. As you wish. _That day, she was amazed to discover that when he was saying "As you wish," what he meant was, "I love you."._ Richie couldn’t stop thinking about this quote, reading Eddie’s words again and again. As you wish. As you wish.

But soon enough, Richie’s mind was pulled out of his fantasy. Eddie didn’t mean anything by that. He just used the sentence because he liked it. It wasn’t the first time he was quoting something out of a movie or a comic book. From what Richie had read previously, it was a phenomenon called echolalia and it was common among autistic people. It didn’t mean that he… that Eddie…

Richie couldn’t find sleep this night. He kept looking at Eddie and reading his words, convincing his stupid mind that it was nothing more than a playful quote. He managed to persuade himself at some point. Eddie didn’t love him like that. It was impossible. It was just ridiculous. They were friends. Best friends. And Richie was fine with that. He wouldn’t dare to ask for more. Never.

And yet, the words kept repeating themselves in his mind. As you wish. As you wish. What he meant was “I love you”. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, I'm so happy to have been able to end this chapter with this quote! I love the "as you wish" from Princess Bride, it's just the most romantic quote I can think of. Now, Richie needs to work on his internalized homophobia and his self-esteem to realize that, yes, Eddie truly meant that he loved him xD. Though Eddie probably didn't realize himself that he just confessed, exhausted as he was. Is he even going to remember? Suspens...
> 
> And Richie was finally able to talk freely about what happened to him, without having to hide why it hurt him so much. He really needs to have more people to talk to. I can't wait to write him meeting other LGBT people and finding acceptance and a safe place to be himself truly. It's probably going to happen soon.
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter. Don't hesitate to comment and/or leave kudos. You know how much I love to read you all! Have a nice day, see you soon!
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Here's the 21st chapter, I hope you'll like it c:. Thank you for your support and your kind words. I'm so glad I'm still able to write this fanfic and find inspiration for it. I hope you're all doing fine!
> 
> Here are the Trigger Warnings for this chapter:
> 
> TW for ableism  
> TW for infantilization  
> TW for casual ableism
> 
> I hope you'll have a good time! Good reading!

It was weird, using the car to go to the library. It wouldn’t take them much time to go there on foot, but neither Eddie nor Richie were willing to take the risk. Not after what happened. It was safer. Richie had joked that he would drive over Bowers if he happened to see him, but Eddie barely managed to chuckle at his humorous attempt. He never wanted to see Bowers and his gang again. Which was probably going to happen once again at some point, given that Derry was quite the small town.

At least, Eddie knew that he wouldn’t see him at the library. Bowers wasn’t really the type to hang out in such places and, anyway, it was public enough that he wouldn’t dare to attempt anything against them there. He hoped so, anyway.

Eddie scratched his cheek absentmindedly, his eyes focused on the road. Maggie took off his bandage today, saying that he should let the skin breathe a little, in order to heal completely. It was hard not to touch it, though. He found himself trying to peel off the skin, poking it and picking at it at every turn. He didn’t really know why, he just did. 

A hand on his. Richie offered him a soft smile, reminding him that he shouldn’t touch it, before letting go of his hand and parking his car. Today was a special day. They weren’t just going to say hello to Mike, as they usually did. No, Eddie was going to tell him that he accepted his job offer, if Mike was still willing to hire him. A job, for Eddie. It would be the first time he ever worked. And as exciting as it was, it also made him feel incredibly nervous.

Grabbing Richie’s sleeve when he was near him, Eddie let out an anxious noise. Now that he could see the library and that he realized what he was about to do, he wasn’t so sure of himself anymore. What if he was bad at it? What if he caused problems for Mike? What if Mike had changed his mind and didn’t dare to tell him so? He pointed his finger at the car, trying to let Richie know that he wanted to go home, that he didn’t want to do it anymore.

Richie, as always, understood his doubts, his fears, the source of his anxiety. He caressed Eddie’s cheek, a gentle gesture that caused his heart to start beating faster, assuring him with a smile:

“It’s gonna be okay, Eds. Mike will be very happy to work with you. The poor dude is exhausting himself trying to handle everything on his own, he certainly needs the help. You’ll be just fine, I promise. You’ll just have to deal with my annoying ass while I’ll try to inject some chaos and mess in the place, you’re used to that, right?”

Eddie rolled his eyes at Richie’s joke. He was about to flick him on the forehead, as he did more and more often, when a clicking noise all too familiar stopped him dead in his tracks. He turned his head towards the source of this sound and here he was. That fucking journalist. Eddie almost forgot about it, after everything that happened. Although time had passed and people slowly lost interest in him, he was still kinda famous. Especially around here.

Richie put himself in front of Eddie, shielding him from having his picture taken once again:

“Fuck off, dude! Don’t you have anything better to do? Leave us alone!”

The journalist flashed him a smile, trying to find an angle to take Eddie’s picture. Eddie pulled his hood over his head, playing nervously with the strings of Richie’s hoodie. He was already stressed out over his possible future job. Why was this guy choosing to annoy him right now?

“Edward Kaspbrak and yourself have been very obviously assaulted, Mr. Tozier. It’s my duty to report it. Who would dare to hurt Derry’s precious little angel this way? And why weren’t you able to pull him off this dangerous situation?”

“I told you to fuck off!”

Richie’s voice cracked slightly on his last word. Eddie knew that he had to do something to stop the man from hurting his friend even more. Even though he already told him that it wasn’t his fault, it was obvious that Richie felt guilty over what happened to them and he certainly didn’t need anyone to tell him that it was the case. 

Stepping in front of Richie, he gave the middle finger to the reporter, writing quickly on his slate:

_Go fuck yourself._

He didn’t care that the journalist took his picture. He kinda hoped that he would use it in his stupid journal, to be honest. Maybe they’d finally stop to call him a “precious angel” if he was pictured telling them all to fuck off.

The journalist seemed slightly offended, but he insisted nonetheless:

“I just want to portray the truth. What really happened. I’m pretty sure whoever did it got off scot-free, right? Don’t you want them to be exposed for what they did?”

Of course, Eddie wanted that! Bowers needed to pay for what happened. But they didn’t have any proof and he didn’t trust the Derry Herald to portray faithfully the events that occurred. Besides, Eddie wasn’t ready to talk about it. Richie and his therapist were the only ones with whom he felt safe enough to talk right now.

He shook his head and Richie supported him, putting his hand on his shoulder:

“He told you “no”, I think it’s clear enough, right? Now, would you kindly fuck off, sir? We have better things to do.”

Richie waved him away with his hand, turning his back to him and walking towards the library. Eddie followed him instantly, grabbing his arm gently. He needed him right now. Eddie hated having to deal with these journalists, who wanted nothing more than making a profit out of his troubles. He hadn’t forgotten the way they portrayed him, helpless, lost and confused. Implying that he was still a child and that he didn’t know what he was doing.

Well, screw them! He was going to have a job and he was going to be the best at it! And fuck those who didn’t believe in him! Eddie wasn’t so sure of himself a few minutes earlier, but now that he was decided to spite them, his determination came back, in all of its glory. He quickly wrote on his slate, pulling Richie’s sleeve to get his attention:

_Gonna get this job and be the fucking best._

Richie laughed at his words, ruffling his hair:

“That’s the spirit, Eds!”

He hesitated for a second, before adding cautiously:

“But you know, maybe he wasn’t entirely wrong. Maybe we should talk about what happened.”

Eddie shook his head once again. He didn’t want to talk about it, he didn’t want to talk to any journalist, he didn’t want anyone to see him as a victim once again! He bit his bottom lip, writing on his slate:

_Want to be forgotten. Tired of people’s attention. No proofs anyway. Greta saw it, but she won’t talk._ _Has a deal with Bowers._

Richie raised an eyebrow at his words:

“A deal?”

Eddie shrugged. He didn’t know more than what Greta told him accidentally. She probably smuggled some pills on the side, so that he wouldn’t bother her. That was the only thing he could think of and Greta was definitely not above this kind of method. Not that he would blame her. Henry Bowers was fucking terrifying.

“I won’t force you to talk or anything like that, Eds. It’s your choice. And to be honest, I’d rather people not to know what happened or what they told us. But he’s right, they’re just getting away scot-free. We should be able to do something.”

Eddie shrugged once again. It wasn’t the first time Henry Bowers and his gang got away with everything. It was always the same since they were young. The closest thing to punishment for his bad deeds was the moment when Eddie managed to get him suspended temporarily and nothing else ever happened. Bowers still hated him for that, Eddie was sure of it.

_Don’t want to think about it. Want to see Mike and work._

Richie offered him a smile, caressing his cheek tenderly:

“Okay, Eddie. Your call. Let’s go bother Mike for a while.”

Eddie was relieved that Richie was listening to him and respecting his choices. He still had a hard time believing that he mattered, that people cared about what he thought and that they wouldn’t just step over his wishes and his needs to get what they wanted from him. Even if he was making a mistake, at least, it would be his to make. Because he was an adult and he could make his own choices and make his own decisions.

Eddie hugged Mike as soon as he saw him, letting out a happy whine. Richie laughed at the sight, adding cheekily:

“No wonder you’ll get the job, Eddie Spaghetti. Corrupting our dear Mike, sleeping your way to the top...”

Eddie went awfully red at the thought, while Mike responded with a “Beep Beep Richie” and an eye-roll. Richie zipped his lips, pretending to throw away the invisible zipper. Eddie didn’t even try to respond to him, stepping away slightly from Mike, feeling terribly embarrassed. He didn’t know how to react to this kind of joke, when it was directed at him. He was still so confused about his feelings, not knowing what to make of it. What Richie would think about it.

Richie’s hand on his cheek startled him slightly, pulling him out of his thoughts:

“Hey, Eds, you’re okay? I’m joking, you know? If Mike decides to hire you, it’s because you earned it. Nothing else.”

Eddie slowly nodded, resisting the temptation to take Richie’s hand in his and to force it even more firmly against his skin. He gulped, taking a deep breath, offering him a clumsy smile as an answer. Letting him know that he was fine. Calm. That he was definitely not having weird thoughts about him. Certainly not.

“Good. Sorry for being late, Mike. A fucking journalist was harassing Eddie. He told him to fuck off.”

“Good on you, Eddie,” Mike said, giving him a thumbs-up, a proud expression on his face. Eddie laughed nervously, fiddling with his hoodie’s strings, not knowing how to take a compliment as usual. “I’m glad you’re considering the idea of working for me. I could really use the help. The library is closing to the public in a few minutes, how about you get a bit more familiar with your surroundings until then? We’ll take the time to talk about all of that afterward.”

Eddie nodded, while Mike had to excuse himself to help a patron in his search. Richie right next to him, he started to walk in the library, his fingers caressing the spine of the books neatly lined up. He really liked this place. It was mostly quiet, familiar. Everything was where it was supposed to be. Well, if people put back the books where they belonged anyway. Eddie audibly scoffed when he noticed a documentary in the fiction section and Richie chuckled while he was taking the book and putting it where it was supposed to be:

“Eds to the rescue! You know you’re not paid right now, uh? You don’t have to start to work already.”

Eddie rolled his eyes at Richie’s words, writing on his slate:

_Don’t like it when it’s not ordered properly. This book was supposed to be here, not there!_

“Yeah, yeah, I know that, you neat freak. After the shit you pulled in my cupboard, I knew that you would fit just right in, as an obsessive librarian.”

Eddie answered by flicking him on the forehead, before writing furiously:

_It was a mess! Clothes scattered everywhere! Had to order it myself. How can you find anything in this chaos?_

“I have a system, Eddie. A system that you messed up purposely, by the way. It’ll take me weeks to put it back the way it was!”

_Then don’t!_

Richie laughed once again and Eddie sighed, cheeks red, flapping his sleeves angrily. But he found himself smiling quickly, unable to stay angry at Richie for more than a few minutes. He missed it, their banters, their stupid fights. Eddie used to be able to answer to him immediately, quickly, instantly. A back-and-forth that he appreciated, even though it was getting him all worked up.

Their dynamic had changed quite a bit after what happened, but it was still there. They were still friends, annoying the hell out of each other. Eddie was relieved to know that Richie wasn’t being too cautious with him. Not after all this time they spent together, getting used to this new life that they were now sharing. Eddie would have been devastated if Richie treated him as a fragile thing, someone to take care of, rather than his friend. Of course, Richie was there to help him, to comfort him, but Eddie was doing so as well. He tried, anyway. It wasn’t a one-way thing. Eddie wanted to be there for Richie too, when he needed him. Chasing away his fears, his tears. Making him laugh. Hugging him. And… And kissing him, maybe?

Eddie went red at the thought and was awfully thankful to Mike when he interrupted them to let him know that they could start to talk about his future job. Richie patted Eddie on the head, before taking a few steps away:

“Okay, I’m gonna let you two do your thing. Can I borrow your phone, Mike? I’d like to call my boss. ‘Think about going back to work as well.”

“Sure thing.”

Mike handed him his cellphone, a brand new model. Richie whistled at the sight:

“You show-off! I didn’t know it paid so well, being a librarian! Or have you gotten tips from patrons? You big, sexy hunk!”

“Beep beep, Richie. I saved money for this. You should do the same. Bev recently bought one as well. You, Eddie, and Stan are the only ones who don’t have a cellphone yet.”

“I broke mine on Bowers’ nose, I think it was a very good idea on my part! Now, excuse me, I gotta call my boss. And a sex line as well. Where to start?”

“Just fucking go, Richie.”

Richie answered with a cheeky “Yes, boss!” before sending an exaggerated kiss to Eddie. Eddie responded by giving him the middle finger, more embarrassed than ever. Why was Richie always teasing him like that? He had no idea how to respond and it was so awkward…

Mike let him the time to get calmer, before leading him to his desk, offering him a seat. Eddie sat on his chair, playing nervously with his pen, waiting for Mike to lead the interview or whatever that they were about to do.

“Relax, Eddie. I just want to go over some stuff with you. You’re already hired. I know your worth and I’m trusting you to work with me. I just want to know what you’ll be most comfortable with. I don’t want you to resent working with me. Not if we can make it a pleasant experience for both of us.”

Oh… So he was already hired. Eddie wasn’t expecting that. It was a weird feeling. Was he really deserving it or was it just because he was Mike’s friend? Anyway, Eddie was determined to prove to Mike that he was right to put his trust in him. No matter what he would ask him to do.

“So, first of all, I would like to know if you’d feel comfortable working when the library is open to the public. Most of my work is actually happening during the closing hours and I could use your help then. But if you’d like to work with the public as well, we can squeeze a few hours in your schedule dedicated to that.”

Eddie didn’t think that he would work when the library was closed. And, now that he was thinking about it, he really preferred it this way. He didn’t forget the way he was treated by the patrons the last time he interacted with some of them. How they immediately bothered him, infantilized him, as if he couldn’t understand what they were saying about him. Eddie didn’t want to passively accept this kind of treatment from anyone anymore. But it would probably a bad thing if he started to pick up fights with Mike’s patrons…

So he wrote on his slate, showing it to Mike:

_Don’t want to work with the public. Not now anyway._

Mike nodded at his words, taking a few notes.

“Okay, good to know. I don’t blame you, people can be quite hard to handle sometimes. Especially children. Parents tend to think that I’m their babysitter and that they can just let them roam there without any supervision. It’s quite chaotic.”

Eddie grimaced sympathetically at the thought. He didn’t know what to make of children. They were usually loud, rude and Eddie couldn’t understand their behavior at all. Better for him if he could avoid dealing with that kind of thing for now.

“Would you be okay with trying to laminate books from time to time? I know that it’s not an easy task and that you’re still struggling with this kind of thing, but it doesn’t have to be perfect or to be accomplished quickly. I’ll show you how it’s done, as many times as necessary.”

Eddie bit his bottom lip, unsure, a bit anxious. He had troubles tying his own shoes and buttoning his shirt here and there, how could he hope to be able to do such a thing? Then again, he thought that he wouldn’t be able to cook and he managed to bake a cake with Maggie. If he didn’t even try, he wouldn’t have known that he was capable of such a thing…

He couldn’t run away from seemingly impossible tasks his entire life. He had to take the risk to fail, sometimes. Even if it meant that he would have to deal with the aftermath of his mistake, this crushing feeling that would overwhelm him.

_I wanna try. Don’t know if I’ll be good at it, but I wanna try._

Mike gave him an encouraging smile, taking a few notes:

“That’s fine by me. Thank you for doing so, Eddie. It means a lot that you’re willing to make this effort for me. And for the library, of course.”

_I’m doing it for you. The library can fuck off._

As soon as he showed his slate to Mike, Eddie wasn’t sure if he took it too far. He wanted to joke, as Richie did, but maybe he shouldn’t have? What if Mike decided that he was being too disrespectful? That he didn’t deserve the job that he was offering to him? Eddie already started to spiral when Mike loudly laughed, giving him back his slate:

“That’s not very nice, Eddie. It’s a sensitive building, you just wound its pride. But thank you anyway.”

Eddie took a deep breath. Okay, so he wasn’t being fired over this stupid joke. Thankfully. He really needed to think a bit more about what he was saying. He was getting a little bit more assured, which was a good thing, but that also meant that he had to control his temper and his jokes. He probably should read his slate again before showing it to people…

“So, I’ll need you to keep the library in order. It’s often a mess after people came by, especially in the children’s section. It would be a big help if you could do that. I’m trying to informatize the library and it’s a huge work. I can’t spend much time on it when the library is opened and I also have to focus on buying new collections and make it presentable to the public.”

Mike got up, signaling to Eddie to follow him. He opened a door, showing him a room full of various books.

“I haven’t had the time to register them or laminate them yet. It’s starting to pile up quite a bit. The Mayor is gonna be furious if he ever sees that. If you could take away some of my workloads, I might have the time to take care of that. Hopefully.”

Eddie was quite impressed with what he was seeing. He didn’t imagine that Mike would have so much work in this library. And he could understand why he often seemed tired when they came to see him.

“I’d also like to organize some events, maybe a weekly hour to read stories to children, but I don’t really have the time for that now. Every bit of help I can get is welcomed, honestly.”

Eddie nodded. He didn’t know how much he could help him, but he would try. For Mike. And also because he wanted to be good at his job. To show to those who didn’t believe in him that he could do it.

They went back to Mike’s desk, talking a bit more about the specifics. Meanwhile, Richie came back, sitting a bit further away, waiting for it to end. Eddie was honestly excited, but also a bit tired and anxious. It was obvious that Mike really needed someone to support him in his job. And Eddie would do his best. But would that be enough?

“Now we’ll just have to work around your schedule, make sure that you won’t miss your therapy sessions or your ASL lessons. You’re still practicing that, right?”

Eddie nodded and Richie added loudly:

“Yeah, next class is scheduled in two days! We missed a few of them after what happened with Bowers, but we’re super pumped up! Right, Eds?”

Eddie shrugged, but he still smiled. To be honest, he didn’t like the fact that he was having so many difficulties with it. Richie was clearly acing it, but Eddie struggled with the movements he had to make and how much it relied on facial expression as well. But he had already decided that he wouldn’t flee from his challenges, so he was going back there and he was going to learn. As much as he could.

“Okay, so we’ll make sure you’re free for that as well. We could start working one day per week and we could add a few more later, when you’ll feel more at ease. What do you think, Eddie?”

Eddie nodded enthusiastically. He could do it. He would do it! Mike was giving him this opportunity and he wasn’t going to let him down, that was for sure! Mike chuckled at his enthusiasm, getting up from his chair:

“Perfect. I’ll let the city hall know about our arrangement and I’ll inform you when they’re giving me the green-light. It shouldn’t be too long. I’m so glad I’m going to work with you, Eddie!”

Mike held out his hand and Eddie shook it, jumping when Richie suddenly joined them and hugged them both:

“That’s it, my Eddie Spaghetti is officially a bookworm! I’m so proud of you both, you nerds. Can I make a suggestion?”

“No, Richie, I’m not going to add a pornography section in the library.”

“But think about the profit! You’d boost your sales for sure!”

“I’m not selling anything, Richie. It’s a library, not a bookshop. And the Mayor would kill me if I attempted to do that.”

Richie pouted and Eddie chuckled at the sight. He rested against Richie, who let Mike go to hug Eddie tightly.

“It doesn’t have to be _official,_ you know? You’ll just have to hide the porn stash in the bathroom and every horny teenager around will pay a few bucks to access it. You could make them pay a fine if they stained the pages.”

“Gross, Richie. You’re so gross.”

Eddie pulled out a disgusted face as well. But as gross this idea was, it made him think that he never really read this kind of thing. Richie seemed to know a lot about it, given how much he talked about the matter. Maybe if Eddie got to know more about it, he would be able to understand what he was feeling a bit better? He wasn’t about to ask that in front of Mike, though. Certainly not. But could he even ask Richie? He would probably laugh at him. Maybe mock him. If Richie was so at ease with this sexual stuff, Eddie should be as well, right? Since they were the same age and all…

But Eddie had been so sheltered his whole life… He never had the opportunity to discover this kind of thing. Maybe it was time?

“Eds, you’re there?”

Eddie was pulled out of his thoughts by Richie’s voice. Definitely not ready to reveal to his friends what he was thinking about, he wrote on his slate:

_I’m fine. Tired._

“Yeah, I can imagine. Do you want to go home?”

Eddie wasn’t really that tired, but he felt embarrassed and hot and a bit weird. It was probably better for him if they just left right now, before this awkward feeling took over Eddie’s mind. He nodded, saluting Mike and thanking him as well.

“I’m counting on you, Eddie. I know you can do it.”

Mike trusted him. Mike really trusted him. And Eddie wasn’t about to disappoint him. He’ll make sure of that.

Fiddling with his seatbelt while Richie was driving them home, Eddie hesitated. A part of him wanted to talk to Richie, maybe ask him for one of his magazines to look at, to know what was the big deal about that, figure out a bit more this part of himself that he never got to explore until now. Figure out the nature of his feelings towards Richie. 

But he couldn’t bring himself to write in on his slate. He tried to do it a few times, but felt too awkward to show it to Richie and erased it quickly, before his friend could read it. Richie clearly saw him do so, but he respected his privacy, and Eddie silently thanked him for that. It was too embarrassing. He couldn’t just talk to him about it. He’ll find another way.

Maybe he could find some of his magazines, while Richie was away, seeing his therapist or else. He’ll just have to be discreet…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so would you believe me if I told you that I absolutely did not intend for this chapter to go this way? And end like this? It totally escaped my control xD. I hope you liked it anyway. Eddie's now a librarian and he's about to explore his sexuality, so I guess things happened xD.
> 
> Anyway, thank you all for your support. Don't hesitate to leave comments and/or kudos, I'm always happy to read your thoughts. Take care of yourself in these difficult times. See you soon!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Here's the 22nd chapter! I felt inspired, so I wrote it earlier than I thought I would. I hope you'll like it!
> 
> Also, a quick warning: Ao3 won't send mails for a while, apparently, so if you're like subscribed to my fanfic or whatnot, you might not be warned temporarily when I'm updating. Or when I'm answering to your reviews. So, uh, don't hesitate to check it here and there, if you don't want to miss the next chapter!
> 
> As always, thank you all for your support! 
> 
> Here are the Trigger Warnings for this chapter:
> 
> TW for mention of homophobia  
> TW for internalized homophobia  
> TW for mention of transphobia  
> TW for ableism  
> TW for infantilization  
> TW for homophobic slurs (reclaimed)  
> TW for emetophobia
> 
> I think that's all! Good reading!

It was a bad idea. Richie couldn’t stop thinking that, his fingers drumming nervously on his wheel, looking at the building a few feet away. He arrived here fifteen minutes earlier, but he didn’t manage to convince himself to leave his car. He kept trying to motivate himself and failing miserably, feeling like he was going to throw up when he put his hand on the car handle. Fuck.

It was still time to go back. Or he could go watch some movie, there was a theater nearby. At least, he could cry for a while in the dark. If he wasn’t too noisy, no one would notice him, right? He could just hate himself quietly for his cowardice and his stupidity… Yeah, that was the perfect plan, right?

Except that it was not. Richie had backed himself in a corner and he didn’t know how to find the courage to do what he was supposed to. The day before, he pretended that he was going to call his boss. Which he did, but the man didn’t answer. He finally called the number his therapist gave him, reaching out to the LGBT association that he mentioned. The woman on the phone had been very nice to him and suggested him to come the next day to take part in one of their support group meetings, so that he could get to know everyone beforehand.

And he said yes. And now, there he was, shaking, unable to move. Unable to find the courage to get up from his seat and walk to the building. It would be the first time he’d officially admit that he was gay. Not just with words, but by his actions as well. And no, kissing Connor Bowers drunkenly didn’t count. Richie still couldn’t believe that he did that. And he never apologized to him. He should do so, next time he’ll see him. Well, if he could see him without his fucking cousin around, of course!

But now was not the time to think about that. Now was the time to finally be fucking brave and to leave his car! Richie took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, to chase away the oncoming panic attack that was about to drown him. They weren’t going to eat him. They were all in the same boat, queer and all. They wouldn’t judge him for his sexual orientation. They wouldn’t think that he was disgusting.

This last thought wasn’t helping at all. He bit his bottom lip, muttering under his breath:

“Come on, you can do it. Just like Eddie, you just have to be brave and face your fucking fears. Come on!”

Thinking about Eddie was the fuel to trigger his determination and Richie was finally able to leave his car, walking towards the building. He didn’t know what to expect from it, maybe something a bit flamboyant? It was probably cliche of him, but Richie never really got to know his LGBT peers and he was clueless about the way they were communicating their opinions and all.

Anyway, if he didn’t know what he was looking for, he would have never guessed that this building was hosting an LGBT association. The name was there, but that was it. Richie couldn’t help, but feel uneasy at the idea that, maybe, they were trying to avoid a crowd that could potentially hurt them… or worse.

It was a bit more obvious once he finally entered. He could see flags on the wall, ignoring what most of them were representing, flyers that he was curious to read, pictures of people, unknown or famous… Richie didn’t know where to look or who he was supposed to talk to. It was kinda overwhelming, but also strangely satisfying. As if he was looking at a puzzle he was finally going to fit in.

“First time here?”

Richie jumped, startled, turning his head towards the person who just talked to him. Visibly someone who fully embraced the punk trend. The woman, who looked a bit older than he was, was sporting her pink crest haircut proudly, clashing with her darker outfit and her colored make-up. Almost as obnoxious as his own Hawaiian shirts. Richie immediately took a liking in her.

“No, I’ve been haunting this building for a century. By the way, Beetlejuice called, he’d like his Lydia back.”

The woman laughed at his quip, retorting immediately:

“Fuck you, dude! She’s goth, it’s totally different. I’m saying fuck to the system, she’s telling it to… I don’t know… Happiness, I guess?”

Richie chuckled at her words. He put his hands in his pockets, taking a deep breath:

“Yeah. First time. Was that obvious?”

“Well, people who have been here for a while don’t tend to look at everything like they’re Alice in Wondergayland. I’ve become super good at noticing first-timers. It’s like my special power.”

“That sucks. You could have been a telepath or have claws like Wolverine. Instead, you just have a baby gaydar. Shame.”

She laughed once again, smiling widely:

“I like you, you’re a funny one. I deal with your kind better than the ones who come here crying and snorting. Totally understandable, but I wasn’t born with the whole “caring package”, so I’m usually making things worse without meaning it. I’m Elizabeth, by the way. You can call me Liz.”

She held out her hand for him and Richie shook it:

“Richard. But call me Richie, I’m begging you. I feel like an old fart when people call me by my full name.”

“Yeah, I get you. Elizabeth is so formal, I hate it. Liz is just fine. So, first time here, do you have like an appointment with the staff or something? Some kids tend to see a counselor before anything else, because they don’t really have anyone to talk to...”

“Well, first of all, I’m not a kid, so fuck you for that.”

Liz sneered at his words, but let him talk, grinning cheekily:

“And secondly, I’m supposed to take part in some support group meeting, I think? I don’t know where I have to go or who I should talk to.”

“Oh yeah, the support groups, you’re gonna like it. It’s pretty chill. Well, I mean, what’s talked about is pretty heavy, but no one is going to judge you or insult you for what you’re saying, so it’s cool. It’s nice to not have to second guess what you’re saying all the fucking time.”

Richie couldn’t imagine what it was like. In spite of his motor mouth, he was always careful when it comes to his sexuality and insisted to display his pretended heterosexuality, quite obnoxiously even. Not having to do that, not a single time… Fuck, Richie couldn’t picture it at all.

He was a bit anxious while Liz was leading him through the building, saluting various people on the way. She seemed to be quite familiar with everyone. It was certainly not her first time…

“Well, you look like you’ve been coming here for a while. Everyone knows you.”

Liz shrugged at his words, offering a smile to some kid who was hanging a poster on a wall:

“It’s been a few years, yeah. I had a panic attack the first time I came here. I just walked in and I basically crashed.”

“I’ve been waiting in my car for fifteen minutes before managing to enter. I almost didn’t come at all.”

Liz patted his shoulder, smiling to him encouragingly:

“But you did. Congrats, dude. First step in the gay world. Rainbow and shit.”

“Rainbow and shit, that’s basically me. You just summarized my whole personality.”

She chuckled at his joke, knocking at a door. She adjusted the paper that was stuck to it, indicating what was going on in the room and how long it would last. The door was opened and Richie and Liz were greeted softly, invited to come inside. The man who let them in hugged Liz, who did the same, before holding out his hand to Richie:

“Welcome here. My name is Don Hagarty, I’m organizing this support group meeting. It’s mostly for the newbies, but the regulars are welcome here as well to help you all to feel integrated. My boyfriend is usually there as well, but he’s raising some funds for the association at an event. You’ll meet him later, if you like it here and come back.”

Richie found himself taken aback by how easily this man just said those words. _ My boyfriend. _ He wanted to throw up, just thinking about uttering them. Liz nudged him gently and he finally managed to introduce himself, fiddling with his glasses:

“I… uh… Richard… Richie Tozier. I’ve called yesterday, they told me I should come here.”

“Oh, yes, they did mention you! I prepared a badge with your name on it, it will make things easier for everyone. You still have yours, Liz?”

“Yup, all clean and good as new!”

She put it on her top and Richie took his as well, shaking slightly while clipping it. There were other people as well, some of them sitting on their chair and waiting for the meeting to start, others pacing around or standing there, unsure of what they were supposed to do. Richie noticed quite easily who among them were first-timers too. They were all sharing the same awkwardness, that feeling of “Oh, do I belong here? Is it what it’s like to feel accepted?” beaming from their face, their attitude, their behavior. He was probably displaying that as well. 

“We’ll be starting in five minutes or so. Make yourself comfortable, Richie.”

Liz took him by the arm, leading him to the chairs and sitting him instantly:

“These ones don’t creak, so they’re basically the best. First, everyone’s going to introduce themselves and then those who want to share about their life will share. It’s pretty basic. It’s mostly to make everyone feel at ease, get used to talking freely about this stuff. I imagine you can’t do that very often...”

Richie smiled weakly at her words:

“Yeah, not really. Little town. Not too keen on acceptance.”

“Is it why you’re all roughed up?”

Richie froze at her words. He crossed his arms reflexively, avoiding her stare. She tried to meet his gaze, giving him a reassuring smile:

“Hey, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t feel like it. I just think it makes it easier, when you’re talking about this stuff with people who really get what you’re going through. Look.”

Liz rolled up her sleeve, showing her arm to Richie. The word “DYKE” was tattooed, but Richie could see fainting scars, covered by the ink.

“Gift from my classmates, back when I was in high school. I never managed to get rid of the scars. Once I got here and found some support, I told myself that I would never let anyone make me feel small like that again. I tattooed the scarred letters, made them obvious, bold. If I want to, everyone can see that I’m a dyke. And I’m fucking proud of it.”

Richie couldn’t stop looking at her arm. His heart was beating loudly, her words repeating in his head, again and again. She was strong. She was so fucking strong. And he couldn’t do that. Every time he thought about Bowers and his gang, the insults thrown at him, he just wanted to vomit. To hide in a small corner and never leave it again. 

“Hey, Richie. You’re okay?”

Richie gulped, chasing away his bad thoughts as much as he could:

“Yeah. Just trying not to throw up.”

“Oh, so you’re one of  _ those _ ! The bathroom is just in front of this room, if you ever need to go there. Try not to miss the bowl, though. Or clean after yourself. Some kids here are truly disgusting, sometimes...”

“I’m not a kid!”

Liz laughed at his words, quieting down when Don let them know that the meeting would begin. Richie tensed on his chair, looking at everyone around him. They all looked so different. Richie didn’t know what to expect, but certainly not this. Some of them were in their thirties or forties, others were barely in their twenties, like him. The youngest seemed to be a high school student, looking warily around him, sitting cross-legged on his chair. He was just a kid...

“Hello, everyone, thank you for being here! As you can see on my badge, I’m Don Hagarty and I’m going to lead this meeting. I’m one of the founders of this association, so if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask me.”

His voice was warm, soft, gentle. Richie felt literal kindness radiating from him, like a soothing light. He shook his leg a bit less, as if he was managing to relax a little thanks to him. 

“I’m gay and I have a wonderful boyfriend, who is not able to take part in this meeting, unfortunately. You’ll get to meet him later.”

Liz whispered to Richie’s ear, with an amused voice:

“Adrian is fucking wild, dude. I’m sure you’ll love him.”

“Let’s start with introductions. You can share what you’re comfortable about. And don’t worry, you’re in a safe place. No judgment. No mockery. Feel free to talk if you want to.”

Richie listened attentively to everyone. He was bewildered to discover so many identities he never thought about. His left neighbor was transgender and bisexual, currently coming out from a messy divorce after he decided to assume his gender identity publicly.

“My husband wasn’t at ease with the new me, I guess. He told me that he wasn’t a “fucking fag” and that he wasn’t going to let the kids near me. I… uh… I lost custody.”

His voice slightly cracked on the last word and Don, after a few nice words, let Richie know that it was his turn to introduce himself. Richie took a deep breath, trying not to stare at his neighbor that he could hear sniffling quietly. Fuck… He wanted to cry too, now…

“Uh… My name is Richie Tozier. I’m twenty and… and I’m gay.”

Richie drummed nervously on his knees, not knowing what to say. Which wasn’t usual for him, far from it. Liz put her hand on his shoulder, squeezing slightly to show her support. Breathe in. Breathe out.

“I… uh… I’ve known that since I was a teenager, basically. Although I only said it out loud to a handful of people. Two, in fact. I’m lucky enough that my friend supports me and that my therapist is cool with it too. I… uh… I’m single.”

“Me too!” One of the guys, about Richie’s age, added jokingly, causing a few laughs. Richie chuckled awkwardly, adding with an unsure tone:

“Not… Not looking for anyone, though. I… uh… I like someone, but I don’t think I’m ever going to tell him. He’s my best friend. And I don’t want to ruin that. Plus, he already has a lot to think about, so I’m not going to add that on the pile. And we’re living together, so that would be awkward as hell...”

Richie realized that he was rambling too much and forced himself to shut up, embarrassed that he might have already told too much. He didn’t plan on mentioning Eddie. Like, at all. And yet, he did. Liz saved him from his embarrassment, introducing herself loudly to get everyone’s attention focused on her:

“I’m Elizabeth Chase, but you should call me Liz or I might have to kill you all. Use your body to invoke Satan and all.”

She laughed at her own joke and Richie chuckled as well, but her humor didn’t seem to land with anyone else. Perhaps they wondered if she could be serious… Even in a place like this, it was so easy to harbor prejudices, it seemed. 

“I’m twenty-six, lesbian and I’m painfully single. And looking for someone, so if you know any cool dyke around, ring me up, okay? But more seriously, I’ve been involved for a while in this association and I basically know everyone around. Richie here is officially my “protégé”, but I can take care of more than one puppy, so if you need some guidance or what, I’m available.”

She put her arm around his shoulder and Richie let her do so. Although they had a different style, he could recognize himself in Liz, loud and obnoxious, talking more than she should. He could feel a connection between them, a faint link between people who shared the same kind of struggles. Maybe he’d be able to make a friend here, for real…

For a while, they all talked about their experiences. For once, Richie stayed silent, listening to everyone’s input. He already shared too much and he wasn’t at ease with that. The high school student was looking at him a bit too often and he didn’t like it. Once the meeting was over, Richie was about to talk some more with Liz when the teenager came to him, asking him frankly:

“You were on TV, right? I recognized you. Richie Tozier.”

Richie froze at his words. Liz looked at him with a curious gaze, but he couldn’t say a single thing. He didn’t want to talk about that. He didn’t want to bring Eddie in this conversation. He wasn’t ready. Certainly not with someone he didn’t even talk to before! But Vincent, that was his name, seemed decided to do so, not caring about what Richie wanted:

“Yeah, you’re the one who killed this fat lady, right? She had a heart attack on live TV, that was wild!”

Richie found himself unable to breathe. If he could see himself in the mirror, he would have noticed how pale he suddenly became. He had to leave. He had to leave now! Why couldn’t he move? Why was he fucking paralyzed?

“Uh… I...”

Liz tried to chase away the teenager, but he insisted, visibly not noticing Richie’s current state:

“Your best friend, it’s Edward Kaspbrak, right? Dude, he’s a fucking toddler! You’re sick!”

Richie didn’t know exactly when his legs stopped carrying him. His whole weight was suddenly supported by Liz, who tried to reach out to him, to get his attention. He couldn’t answer. He couldn’t say a single thing. He thought he was about to find his place, somewhere where he could be accepted, but… but he was  _ sick.  _ He was fucking sick. He…

Liz led him to the bathroom and Richie couldn’t hold it any longer. He threw up, sobbing and spitting, while she was grabbing his hair softly, using her other hand to prevent his glasses to fall in the toilet bowl. She was shushing him tenderly, giving him a few encouraging words.

“It’s okay, Richie. Let it out. I’m sorry about this kid. Don is talking to him right now. He was way out of line. Just let it out. I’m here to talk when you’re ready.”

He didn’t know if he’ll ever be ready. But she was so gentle, so caring. And she  _ understood.  _ He needed her to understand. When he finally stopped emptying his stomach, Liz helped him up. Richie grabbed a chewing-gum, while she led him to another room, quiet and dimmed, filled with armchairs and pillows. Eddie would have loved this place, he was sure of it… 

Liz guided him to a comfortable armchair and he let himself fall, exhausted, ashamed, and filled with self-hate. She gave him a water bottle and he thanked her weakly:

“It’s fine, Richie. I had people to help me on my first day too. Granted, I wasn’t experiencing the exact same thing, but you know… They supported me. And you need that as well. So, I’m here. You can talk if you want. I’ll listen.”

He drank and stayed silent for a while, his cheeks covered with tears. Fuck, he felt so bad… It wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to feel safe here. Safe and accepted. But it was like everywhere else. He just… He…

Liz squeezed his hand gently, smiling at him. She wasn’t judging him. She wasn’t analyzing him. She was just waiting. Waiting for him to say something if he wanted. And he… he kinda wanted to, to be honest. So he did. He started to talk about Eddie, about his mom, about everything. It took him a while, but she never interrupted him. When the cat was finally out of the bag, Richie was relieved, but also filled with anxiety. How was she going to react?

She looked at him pensively for a while, before finally letting out:

“That’s… That’s heavy, dude. I’m sorry for what happened. You absolutely didn’t deserve it. You didn’t kill this woman, it was all just a fucking accident. And I don’t know your Eddie, but he’s certainly not a toddler and you’re not sick for loving him.”

Richie sneered sadly at her words and she retorted immediately:

“I’m serious, Richie! I… I can’t say that I know what you’re going through. But I remember this lady who came a few times to our meetings. She was in a wheelchair and she could barely talk, but she had quite the brain, if you let her express herself the way she could. She always talked about the fact that people didn’t take her seriously. Even her parents didn’t want to believe her when she came out to them. They told her that she didn’t know what she was talking about. They treated her like a fucking child, she was forty! It’s just… fuck I’m still angry when I think about it...”

She caressed his hand, in a comforting way. Richie took a deep breath, doing his best to chase his most negative thoughts, to come back to his usual self. Which wasn’t an easy feat, far from that.

“Listen. Your feelings are valid. You’re in love with your best friend and, trust me, aside from the whole disability and sheltered angle, I know how hard it is. I had my fair share of crushes and they were quite painful. Mostly because I never dared to admit my feelings to any of them. Too scared of rejection. Anyway… You’re valid. You’re okay. You’re not sick or any of that bullshit this kid told you. I swear, Richie.”

He wanted to believe her. It was just so fucking hard… He couldn’t stop hearing what Vincent said and it killed him. It hurt him so much… It was everything he was so fucking afraid about. That they would reject him as well. 

Liz got up on her feet, hugging him without any hesitation. Richie hugged her back, sighing deeply. It felt good, these arms around him… This support offered to him freely, boldly, instantly. He needed it. He needed it so much…

“I hope you’re going to give us a second shot, Richie. I like you, honestly. You seem cool. I swear that it won’t happen again. And if anyone gives you shit, I’ll kick their fucking dick. Or vagina or whatever. You know how much it fucking hurts, when I’m doing that with my combat boots?”

She showed them to him and Richie chuckled weakly. He wasn’t totally back to his usual self, but he was getting there. Slowly. 

“But I’d understand if it’s too much. I’d still like to see you, though. If you were okay with that, of course. To be honest, I don’t have many friends. People around here know me and all, but outside of this building, we’re basically strangers. I mean, Don is nice, but we don’t really belong in the same circles, for example. I… uh...”

Liz bit her bottom lip, adding shyly:

“I… uh… I just think you’d make a cool friend, Richie. If you’re okay with that. Whether you come back here or not.”

Richie wasn’t expecting that from her. She seemed so assured, so loud, so proud. But it was probably mostly a facade, just like him. Just like his Trashmouth persona. He smiled at her and nodded:

“Yeah, that would be cool. And… And I think I’ll come back here, at least once. Test the waters. It was just a bad day with the bad crowd. I hope.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely! I’m sorry about what this kid said to you. He won’t do it again. Don is talking to him and I’ll do it as well.”

“Thanks.”

Richie hesitated for a second, looking at Liz thoughtfully, before asking her with a curious tone:

“Uh… So you didn’t recognize me at all? People tend to, though it’s less noticeable than a few months ago. It was quite a show, on live TV...”

“Yeah, well, I don’t really watch TV, to be honest. My parents didn’t have a TV back then and I never bought one for my flat either. I wouldn’t have the space for my guitar and stuff. It’s like super tiny. I’m basically living in a closet. Which is quite ironic for a dyke, you have to admit it...”

She laughed at her own joke and Richie did as well. Maybe he’d be able to make this kind of joke too, later? He hoped so. He hoped he’d be comfortable enough to do so, one day or another…

“So, no, sorry, dude. Didn’t see you on TV.”

“It’s better like that. Honestly, if I could just forget all about it, I’d feel way much better.”

“I can imagine that...”

They spent the next hour talking and sharing their thoughts. At some point, Don came to check on them, making sure that Richie was okay. He assured him that he supported him wholly and that he was here for him if he needed to talk. All of this kindness, this support… Richie almost felt dizzy, thinking about it. 

When he left the building, Liz and Don’s phone numbers written on a tiny scrap of paper, he felt that the weight on his shoulders had been slightly lifted, which allowed him to feel a bit better in his own shoes. While he still had to digest what this kid had said, the overwhelming amount of support he received afterward really helped. 

And hey, he managed to leave his car and enter this fucking building, after all! All of this, that was more than a victory on a part. It was a freaking triumph!

*

When Richie came home, he was exhausted, but happy to be back. He saluted his parents, who let him know that Eddie was reading in his room. Richie couldn’t wait to hug him… After everything that happened, he really needed that. Humming softly under his breath, Richie opened his bedroom door, forgetting to knock. And he probably should have…

Eddie was sitting on his bed, cross-legged, holding a magazine in his hands. His face was red, his breathing slightly erratic and… and he was… he was very, very obviously turned on by what he was reading. Their eyes met and Richie closed the door behind him, slowly, very slowly. As if he wasn’t controlling what he was doing. As if he was suddenly on autopilot, his brain violently disconnected from the rest of his body.

He should say something. Anything to kill this fucking awkward silence, to calm Eddie who seemed on the verge of a panic attack, to quiet his fucking hormones who were so agitated that he felt like a fucking teenager. Anything! But certainly not what his stupid mouth chose to say…

“So, uh… Beating the meat, Eds?”

… Fuck him. Fuck him and his fucking trashmouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, I was able to feature Richie going to this LGBT center I mentioned for a while! I hope you liked it. I was a bit anxious, writing it and writing all of these characters (well, Don excepted, since he's canon and all). Don't hesitate to share your thoughts and all, I'm really dying to know what you think about this chapter particularly, it was really important for me to write it and to manage to write it well. I hope it's the case. I really wanted to show Richie getting to meet other LGBT folks and to make some friends along the way, that he could relate to.
> 
> And yeah, I'm leaving you on quite the cliffhanger, I know xD. Richie, smooth as ever... It was a really fun conclusion to write, honestly xD. 
> 
> Thank you all for your support and your kind words! Don't hesitate to leave comments and/or kudos! Have a nice day and see you soon!


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Here's the 23rd chapter, I hope you'll like it! Your reactions towards the end of my last chapter really made my day, so I made sure I would write this one as soon as possible.
> 
> It's the first time I'm writing this kind of thing, but I hope you'll like it anyway. I tried to put myself into Eddie's shoes for this chapter, which is not an easy feat to do as an asexual woman, but I hope I managed to do it just fine. Don't hesitate to let me know if anything seems weird to you or what. I'm open to criticism, especially when it comes to handling sex in a story. I'm willing to admit that I might not be really knowledgeable on the matter, although I'm trying to keep myself informed, so don't hesitate!
> 
> Here are the trigger warnings for this chapter. I'm not sure how to tag it all, so if you feel like I should add a tag or another, don't hesitate to tell me:
> 
> TW for sexual content  
> TW for mention of child abuse  
> TW for self-harm  
> TW for mention of infantilization  
> TW for internalized ableism  
> TW for mention of ableism
> 
> I think that's all! Good reading!

Eddie didn’t think he would have the opportunity this early to satisfy his curiosity. He was ready to wait for a while for Richie to leave the house, either to go see his therapist or for any other reason. But Richie let them know the day before that he was going to give a shot to the association for hyperactive adults that he mentioned before, which meant that Eddie would have the afternoon, or most of it, just for himself. 

Maggie was there as well, but Eddie told her that he was going to read in his bedroom and that he’ll join her later. She agreed, telling him that he could ask for her any time he wanted and that he shouldn’t hesitate to do so, no matter what he needed or wanted to talk about. Eddie nodded, relieved to know that he would be at peace for the rest of the day to accomplish his mission. He wouldn’t have known how to explain himself further to Maggie if she insisted to keep him by her sides, but he certainly wouldn’t have told her the truth. It was… it was too embarrassing.

When Richie left, Eddie went back to their bedroom and started to rummage through his stuff. He was pretty sure that Richie must have had porn magazines hidden somewhere, with how much he talked about sexual things. But where would he hide it? Eddie had absolutely no clue about that. It was not in his cupboard, not under his bed or any of that.

He was about to give up entirely on his search when he finally managed to find a magazine, hidden in an old school book that Richie put in one of his desk drawers. Eddie had raised an eyebrow at the sight. Richie wasn’t really the type to keep this kind of stuff for nostalgia’s sake. He even made a point to describe to Eddie how he burned everything related to school as soon as he didn’t need it anymore. So, to keep this in a drawer, under other books? That was suspicious.

And Eddie was right. Opening the school book, he found the magazine he was looking for, the pages slightly bent so that it wouldn’t stick out from the top or the bottom of the book. Eddie grinned at the sight, feeling proud of himself for his detective work. He put everything back in order, unable to bear the idea of leaving their room in such a mess, before finally allowing himself to sit on the bed, watching the magazine’s cover without daring to open it.

It was already pretty… explicit. The cover featured two men and a woman, naked, caressing each other with a lustful expression. Eddie made sure that the door was closed, his cheeks red, before going back to the bed, trying to psych himself to read the magazine. He couldn’t help, but feel a bit ashamed. He didn’t know exactly why, having trouble figuring out what he was experiencing at the moment. 

He settled on holding the magazine in his hands, looking at it from every angle. From what he was seeing, some pages seemed to have their corner folded, as some kind of bookmark. Eddie frowned at the sight, but the magazine was already pretty old, from the late 80’s it seemed, and it wasn’t really in a pristine state, so he shouldn’t get irrationally angry at such a petty detail. It wasn’t like Richie folded the pages of any books he borrowed from the library, so it was okay, right?

Eddie noticed that he was focusing too much on this tiny detail, probably to avoid the extreme discomfort he felt, thinking about skimming through the pages of this magazine. He kinda wanted to put it back where it was and never think about it again, but on the other hand… Eddie was really, really curious. He never got to read this kind of stuff and he wouldn’t have dared to bring something like that in his home. What if his mother came across a magazine like this? In his room?

Eddie let go of the magazine and hid his face in his hands, letting out a small noise of embarrassment at the idea. He had no doubts that his mother would have called him out for it. That she would have shoved the magazine in his face, going through the pages and screaming at him about how disgusting he was. Given that she switched channels every time any sexual scene (even something as mild as a kiss) was featured, telling to Eddie that it was inappropriate for him, she probably would have locked him in his room for the rest of his life if she ever caught him reading this kind of stuff.

And a part of him definitely wanted to read this magazine now, just to spite her. As a way to tell her that he was not her Eddie bear anymore, that he was a grown-up and that he could read sexual content if he felt like it. But there was also this other part of him that kept hearing her voice in his head and that made him want to shrink and apologize for what was a clear offense, an awful mistake on his part. He wasn’t supposed to read this stuff…

Eddie bear, how could you? You’re my little boy, you’re not allowed to read this disgusting stuff! It will make you dirty too! Mommy is going to wash you, to make sure that you’re still pure and clean. Mommy is going to take care of you…

Eddie didn’t know how long he zoned out, but when he came back to him, he was trembling, tears rolling down his cheeks. He wiped them furiously, shaking his head to chase away her voice, his negative thoughts. It was just a magazine! Richie read this kind of thing and he wasn’t dirty or disgusting or any of that stuff, so Eddie wouldn’t be like that either if he read it, right? He just wanted to take a peek… To understand what it was all about, why Richie was talking about this stuff so much…

Eddie took a deep breath, humming anxiously under his breath. He gave himself a little slap on the cheek, before finally finding the courage to open the magazine, searching for one of the pages that Richie bookmarked.

An “Oh” sound slipped past his lips when he came across what he was looking for. It was a double-page, featuring a man and a woman on each side of the page. Richie crooked the side where the man was standing, naked and erect. The woman on the other page was on her knees, lips parted, about to take the man’s penis in her mouth.

Nervous, Eddie started to suck on one of his fingers, while looking at the page intently. He didn’t know what to think of it. He was feeling uneasy, as if what he was seeing was wrong in some way that he couldn’t explain. After a while, he bent the magazine, so that he would only be able to see the man, staring and detailing what was on the page.

Aside from his own body, Eddie had never seen another man naked before. The model seemed to be in his thirties, tall and muscular. Eddie only had his own body as a reference and they clearly didn’t look anything alike. Eddie even wondered how the man was able to wear clothes at all without feeling any kind of discomfort, given the length of his penis. Was it normal? Was it how every man was supposed to be like? Eddie’s dick was nowhere close to this model’s and he wondered if there was something wrong with him. Was Richie’s penis like that as well?

Eddie’s mind started to work in spite of him, replacing the model on the page with Richie. Richie naked. Tall, naked, looking at him with the same expression the man had for his partner. Eddie on his knees, about to… about to…

Eddie’s breath started to get ragged. Some part of him thought that it seemed disgusting, putting his mouth on… on _that._ He could barely bear the idea of touching his own dick to wash it, so… so doing something like that? Eddie’s feelings and thoughts were all over the place, leaving him awfully confused. He was blushing, his body filled with heat, his mind featuring Richie again and again as the man modeling on the magazine’s page. 

He shifted his posture, sitting cross-legged, a strange feeling between his legs. Eddie lowered his head and let out a small whine at the sight. He immediately avoided looking at his crotch, the shame growing even more. He didn’t know how to deal with that… Usually, he hid it and hopped in the shower as soon as he could, drenching himself with cold water. But he didn’t dare to leave the room, not looking like that. What if he crossed Maggie’s path? What if she saw him like that? 

Eddie was hitching to take care of his dick, this feeling getting more and more uncomfortable every second passing by. But he wasn’t supposed to. It was dirty. It was dangerous. It was disgusting. His mother told him so, the only time she surprised him doing that. Eddie was young at the time, still a child, but he never forgot his mother’s reaction and it was all he could think about right now, dying to masturbate and, yet, filled with disgust and shame whenever his hands got closer to his crotch. 

She didn’t hit him, but he was pretty sure she would have if she had caught him again doing that. His mom had pulled him by the arm, throwing him in the bathtub, before filling it with water so cold that Eddie came down with a fever the next day. 

She had scrubbed him everywhere so hard that his skin was covered with bruises, insisting on his hands and his crotch, repeating him again and again that it was a disgusting thing to do, that he could catch awful diseases and transmit them to others as well. She had described in graphic details that his penis could become necrotic, that he would itch everywhere for the rest of his life, that would be short and filled with pain. That he might get as sick as his father if he ever did that again. 

After that, Eddie had been so traumatized that he had been unable to talk for two days straight. Every time he started to get an erection, notably some mornings when he woke up, he would immediately go to the bathroom and splash cold water all over his body until it finally stopped. The mere idea of touching himself was sending shivers through his spine and not the good kind.

Eddie couldn’t bring himself to masturbate. But he couldn’t close the magazine either. He was stuck in this strange state of arousal and guilt mixed, his breath ragged, his cheeks flushed, his dick begging for any kind of relief. Was it what Richie was feeling when he read those magazines? Was it supposed to be fun? Nice? Eddie just felt… weird. Very, very weird. And ashamed. And guilty.

He unfolded the magazine, split between closing it altogether or going through the other pages that Richie marked, when the door suddenly opened. Eddie felt his heart skipping a beat, his eyes meeting Richie’s who was looking at him with a gaze that he couldn’t quite define, but that was clearly filled with embarrassment. 

Richie slowly closed the door behind him, while Eddie was dropping the magazine on the bed, his breathing getting more erratic than it already was. He started to wheeze, his thoughts swirling in his mind, and it didn’t get better when Richie started to speak, saying something that Eddie didn’t quite understand. Eddie wanted to die. Right now, Eddie wanted to die and to be forgotten by everyone else. Especially by Richie. 

Why did he do that? Why did he want to read this stupid magazine? It was disgusting, he was dirty and… and Richie saw him like that. Richie was still there, looking at him, probably thinking that he was the worst, that he couldn’t believe that his friend was such a pervert. Eddie bear, you’re sick. Sick and twisted. What did Mommy tell you? Mommy is so disappointed…

Eddie didn’t realize that he started to whine or that he was hitting his head with his fist closed, still engulfed in his memories, in his negative thoughts. A knock on the door and he heard Maggie’s voice, asking what was happening. Richie immediately kept the door closed, informing her with a panicked voice:

“Eddie had a nightmare! But… But I’m dealing with it, don’t come in the room! I’ll let you know when he’s okay.”

Maggie didn’t insist and Richie sighed with relief, quickly coming closer to Eddie and stopping him from hitting himself, trying to get his attention.

“Hey, Eds, it’s me, it’s Richie! You’re safe, okay? It’s okay. It’s fine. I… uh… When you’ll calm down, I… I’ll leave the room so that you can take care of it. And then we… we’ll talk. If you want to. O… Okay?”

Richie caressed his cheek softly and Eddie managed to come out of his hateful thoughts, ceasing to hurt himself. Richie’s gaze stopped for a few seconds on Eddie’s crotch, before avoiding it altogether, his cheeks redder than ever. When Eddie seemed to get calmer, Richie got up from the bed, about to leave the room. Not wanting to be left alone, Eddie whined fearfully. He took his slate, writing quickly on it:

_Don’t go. Scared._

Richie looked at him, blushing and strangely sad, muttering with an awkward tone:

“Uh… I’m… I’m coming back, okay? You… uh… You can get off in the meantime. I’ll change the sheets and all when it’s over. And… And I won’t tell my parents. I swear. So… uh… I should probably go. You can… uh… do your thing.”

Eddie whined again, his breathing turning into an anxious wheeze. He didn’t know what to do! His body was reacting weirdly, Richie was awkward, he just ruined everything, he… he… His mommy was right. He was disgusting. He shouldn’t have done that. And now, Richie was going to talk to his parents, because Eddie wasn’t supposed to do that, and they would punish him, take his things, maybe send him away. He started to cry and wail and Richie came back to him, shushing him:

“Okay, okay, I’m not leaving. I… uh… I’m leading you to the bathroom, okay? You can take a shower and I’ll wait for you. Then we’re gonna talk, okay? I think we need to. But I’m not angry. It’s… It’s natural, it’s okay. I… uh… Let me help you.”

Eddie got up, grabbing Richie’s arm, not letting it go until they finally reached the bathroom. Eddie was still crying, unable to process his feelings, to figure out what was going on in his mind, in his body. He hated himself so much right now. He knew that he was supposed to take off his clothes, to hop in the shower, but he was stuck, crying, crying, crying. Richie called out to him softly, reminding him that he could do it on his own, but Eddie kept on crying, curling up on the floor. 

The itchy feeling between his legs was almost completely gone, but he was still weird, ashamed, hot, disturbed. He was barely able to stand on his feet when Richie got him up, starting to take off his shirt for him. Once he was shirtless, Eddie slipped his fingers in his mouth and sucked on them nervously, humming anxiously. Richie tried to get his attention and to convince him to do the rest on his own, but Eddie couldn’t pull himself out of this state. His gaze was getting unfocused, his mind filled with images and ideas clashing violently, keeping him from being able to do what he could usually do on his own. 

He kept hearing his mom’s words, feeling her hands all over his skin, bruising, hurting, touching in ways that felt invasive, awful. Repeating him again and again that he was disgusting and sick, that his behavior would only lead him to his painful death. Eddie finally managed to get a grip on reality when hot water started to run down his skin, his hair. Just the right temperature. He blinked slowly, pulling out his fingers from his lips, looking at Richie. Richie who was looking at him with concern, his cheeks red and covered with tears. Eddie whined softly and Richie gave him a weak smile:

“Hey. Uh… Think you can handle the rest on your own? I… uh… I think it would be better if you did it alone. If you can.”

Eddie nodded, tilting his head to the side at Richie’s relieved sigh. His friend stepped out of the shower, staying in the bathroom, but sitting opposite to him, letting him know that he just had to knock twice on the wall if he felt bad or needed help. Eddie stayed in the shower for a while, letting the hot water drench his body. He repeated his therapist’s exercise, so that he wouldn’t try to hurt himself once again, managing slowly to relax and to get rid of the weird feeling that was coursing his mind and his body. 

When he let Richie know that he was done, his friend brought him a clean set of clothes, and Eddie dressed up on his own, before following Richie to his room. The magazine had been put back where Eddie found it, in the school book. School book that was still on Richie’s desk. 

Eddie sat on their bed, Richie doing the same. Richie offered him a reassuring smile, before clearing his throat, fiddling with his glasses:

“So… uh… do you want to talk about it? I think we should. It’s going to be awkward if we don’t. I mean, it’s also going to be awkward if we do, but you know...”

Richie laughed nervously. Eddie nodded, before starting to suck on his fingers, heart beating, filled with embarrassment. They should probably talk… But he didn’t know what to say and he felt really, really awkward. He was also scared of Richie’s possible reaction. Eddie wasn’t supposed to do that, right?

“Okay, so… I’m guessing that’s not something you’re doing very often, right?”

Eddie nodded, writing on his slate:

_First time. Never read magazines before. Was curious._

“Oh, uh… It’s… It’s okay, you know? I mean, next time, you should probably lock the door before. And I should definitely knock. But there’s nothing wrong with that, you know? I… uh… I’m doing that from times to times, too. Uh… I haven’t read this one in a while, I completely forgot about it, to be honest, but… uh… Fuck, it’s so weird. Sorry, it’s not you, it’s just… I wasn’t expecting that. Like, at all.”

Richie took a deep breath and Eddie did the same, rocking slowly to soothe himself. It was weird. It was really weird. But he needed to be sure that Richie wasn’t angry. That they were still friends, after what he did. Shaking slightly, Eddie wrote carefully on his slate, showing it to Richie:

_Sorry. Didn’t touch myself, promise. Know that it’s dangerous. Won’t do it again._

Richie raised an eyebrow at his words, letting out an unsettled “What?” that made Eddie recoil. He said something wrong, he was being bad, he knew it! He started to hum nervously and Richie immediately said, shaking his head:

“No, no, Eds, don’t panic, it’s fine, you didn’t do anything wrong! I’m just… I’m just processing. What do you mean by “dangerous”? I… I need to understand what you mean. Clearly.”

Eddie proceeded to explain the whole thing, surprised that Richie didn’t know what he was talking about. Richie had clearly more knowledge than he did on the matter. How could he not be aware of how dangerous it was? Of all the things he was risking if he masturbated? 

When he finished writing everything and showed it to Richie, he didn’t expect him to let out an angry “Fuck!”, lowering his head, waiting for the punishment to come. It was normal. Eddie had been bad. He knew that he had been bad. He deserved it, whatever Richie decided to do. Eddie flinched when Richie’s hand touched his cheek, but he was being soft and cautious, not slapping him like Eddie thought he would.

“Eddie… Your mom lied to you. What she said to you, what she did to you, it’s wrong, it’s clearly wrong. I… If she wasn’t already dead, I would have probably killed her myself for what she did to you. It’s… fuck, I don’t even have the words.”

Richie clenched his other hand into a fist, focusing on his breathing, trying to calm himself down. His legs were agitated and Eddie could clearly see that he was fighting the urge to punch something. Eddie let out a worried whine, taking Richie’s hand in his, trying to help him to relax. Richie smiled at him, taking another deep breath:

“I’m fine, Eds, thanks. Just… Just furious at your mom. It’s… Okay, let’s focus on the matter at hand, no pun intended.”

Richie chuckled nervously, while Eddie just looked at him with a curious expression. He was definitely not in a state to understand Richie’s weird joke attempt. His friend cleared his throat, searching for the right words to say:

“It’s normal to masturbate. It’s… It’s okay to want to do it and to read porn and all. I do that too. Most people you’ll come across in your life will have done that at some point, probably even more. If my dick was supposed to become necrotic because of my masturbation, I would have lost it years ago.”

Richie tried to laugh it off, but it was obvious that he was embarrassed. Eddie was as well, but he knew he needed to talk about it. He started to understand that, yes, his mom did lie to him about that as well, and he realized how ignorant he was about all of that. 

So many things he didn’t know, so many things that she prevented him to learn, shaming him and traumatizing him to make sure he would always be her little boy, no matter how old he was. Fuck, it was… Eddie was starting to get furious as well. And it was useless, because his mom was dead and he would never be able to lash out at her for all the things she did to him.

“I had the talk with my father before we were friends, when he walked on me literally beating the meat. Uh… Masturbating, if you don’t know the expression. He left the room and we didn’t mention it for a while, until he did. It was the most awkward moment I’ve ever lived, but I needed it, you know? He told me that it was okay, that it was natural, that I just needed to make sure to lock my door when I wanted to do that. And also to clean my hands before and after that, because, well, it would be like leaving the bathroom without doing it, it’s disgusting. You don’t want to shake my hands after I did any of that, trust me.”

Eddie let out an “Ew” and shook his head, causing Richie to laugh. Okay, so it was normal, but he still needed to make sure to respect some basic hygienic rules. It seemed logical. Eddie nodded, encouraging Richie to continue:

“I… I did it quite often, after that. Because it felt good and it was a quick way to relax and unwind. Less after you came back in my life, because, well, we live together and all and I didn’t want to risk you seeing me doing that, so I didn’t. Mostly.”

Richie’s cheeks were even more flushed after his admission. Eddie wasn’t quite sure why. It wasn’t more embarrassing than what they already talked about. And if Richie said it was normal and natural, then there wasn’t anything to blush about, right? 

“Uh… so you can do that if you want. Just make sure that the door is locked and that you’re alone. You can do it in the bathroom too. Well, probably not when I’m in here as well, or Mom and Dad, but you know...”

Eddie would never do that! Just imagining it made him cringe, shaking his head, again and again, to assure that he perfectly understood Richie’s point and would keep it private. 

“But it’s okay, you know? You don’t have to be ashamed of it. And it’s not dangerous. I mean… I guess if you did that all day long, it might have some side effects, but I don’t think that’s your plan, right?”

Eddie shook his head once again. He could see himself trying to get familiar with the feeling here and there, but doing that as much as Richie described it? No, it wasn’t appealing at all. Feeling flushed like that, weird and hot… It was so intense, Eddie could barely describe it. He could probably enjoy it occasionally, but more than that? No. Certainly not. 

“Right… I’m not really an expert to talk about this stuff, not without making awful jokes and over-exaggerating stuff, as I usually do. But I bet there are some books at the library on the subject that we could borrow. I mean, my mom bought me one of these books when I was young, but it must be pretty outdated by now. I don’t want you to come across fake information or preachy content, you don’t need that.”

Richie fiddled with his glasses, adding as an afterthought:

“You should probably talk about that with your therapist, if it’s something you’re okay with. I… uh… She might be able to explain some stuff to you, related to your autism and all. You might be more or less sensitive or you might get overwhelmed and all and those are things I can’t really understand or explain to you. But she could, I think. So… uh… If you feel comfortable with that, you should probably bring up the subject to her.”

Eddie nodded, thinking that it was a good idea. She could probably help him. And they already started to speak about Eddie’s feelings towards Richie, so she would probably be able to understand why he started to think about him like that. It was getting more and more obvious that he loved Richie, but he needed to be absolutely sure. And to know what he was supposed to do about it, because he was completely lost. And clueless. 

“You’re feeling better, Eds? Again, I’m sorry I didn’t knock before. It’s your room too, I should be more mindful about your privacy.”

Eddie shrugged, accepting Richie’s apology without being sure he needed it. To be honest, he wasn’t really used to having any kind of privacy. His mom always barged in his room without knocking first and he did spend an entire year being filmed at every angle, even when he was in the bathroom, so…

_I’m okay. Just tired. Thank you, Richie. Needed to hear all of that._

“Yeah, you did. I still can’t believe the bullshit she told you. I mean, I can, but fuck! It’s… ugh! If I had known before, when we were still teenagers, I would have talked to you about it earlier! And… And I could have brought you some magazines as well. I… uh...”

Richie hesitated, before getting up and reaching the top of his cupboard, pulling a box. Eddie didn’t think to search there, too small to reach it without standing on a chair. He opened it, getting rid of the various objects that were in it, revealing a stash of magazines.

“I’m hiding them there, if you… if you want to read something else than this old magazine. They’re clean, I promise. I… I didn’t spurt all over them or what, I… uh… Why the fuck am I telling you that? I… uh...”

Blushing furiously, Richie quickly put back the box where it was supposed to be, as well as his school book and the magazine it contained. Then he let out a long sigh, stretching his body, giving himself little taps on the cheeks:

“Okay, okay, Awkward Richie is gone and I’m letting the Trashmouth rest for a while. Let’s just… Let’s just talk about something else, okay?”

Eddie nodded, asking Richie to talk about his afternoon. And Richie did, mentioning a friend that he made, Liz. The way he was talking about her, how much he smiled… Eddie felt a weird ache in his heart and realized that he was jealous. Jealous of a girl he didn’t even know or met before. But Richie was so happy talking about her, as if they were already friends. And she seemed… she seemed cool. Way cooler than Eddie was. 

Eddie bit his bottom lip, shaking his head when Richie asked him if something was wrong. He shouldn’t say anything. Richie was making friends, friends that could truly understand what he was going through. Eddie didn’t want to ruin that for him. He deserved to feel happy. It’s just… He seemed to really, really like this Liz. Maybe differently from a friend. And Eddie… Eddie didn’t want that to happen.

He kept thinking about it for the rest of the day, pretending that he was tired, which wasn’t totally fake, while obsessing over the idea that Richie might be in love with someone else. A girl. A girl that could understand his difficulties, his troubles, his disability in a way Eddie would never be able to. And it made him feel anxious. Frustrated. Sad.

When they went to bed this night, Eddie hugged Richie even tighter than usual, as if his friend would vanish if he let him go. He should be happy for Richie. He should be. But he couldn’t. Eddie was scared. Scared that Richie might love this Liz and leave him for her. Why would he stay with him if he loved her? He wouldn’t want to burden himself with Eddie, Eddie who couldn’t speak, who could barely function on his own, who was so ignorant about sex that he needed to have _the_ talk from his best friend. 

Eddie had a nightmare, this night. It started pleasantly, Richie and him spending a good time together, cuddling, talking, kissing. But then _she_ was there. Kneeling at Richie’s feet. They were both naked, flushed with desire, clearly aroused. And Eddie could only look. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t protest, he couldn’t do anything, besides looking.

He finally woke up, screaming at the top of his lungs, when his mother started to whisper to him how disgusting he was, that Richie would never want to have anything to do with him. Her hands on his skin, her voice in his ear, the fear, the shame, the disgust… It was all too much and Eddie spent most of the night crying in Richie’s arms, unable to explain what terrified him like that.

How could he? Richie would mock him. Leave him for good. He was going to do that, one day or another. Leave Eddie for someone else, someone like Liz. And Eddie would be all alone…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter was heavier than I think it would be, but I think it's logical. It seems obvious to me that Sonia messed with Eddie in many ways and that she would have probably traumatized him when it comes to sex, to make sure that she would keep him under her control and that he would never be anyone else than her "Eddie bear". As a result, it's going to be quite complicated for Eddie to explore his sexuality healthily, as it is for Richie, but for very different reasons. 
> 
> Eddie's also quite clingy and not used to Richie meeting and befriending other people, which is why he immediately jumped to conclusions and started to get jealous. Which is definitely not a healthy way to handle these things, but Eddie doesn't really have a model to rely on, for now. He'll talk about all of this with his therapist. 
> 
> I really wanted to feature how damaging it can be to keep your child, whether they're neurotypical/able-bodied or disabled, from exploring their own sexuality naturally. Eddie should have been able to do so years ago and he just now has the opportunity to understand and accept his feelings, while having to deal with his trauma as well. I hope I have been able to convey that properly.
> 
> Thank you all for your support and your kind words! Don't hesitate to leave comments and/or kudos, I'm really, really curious to know what you thought about this chapter. Have a nice day! See you soon!


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Here's the 24th chapter. Thank you all for your kind and encouraging words for the 23rd chapter, I was clearly out of my comfort zone, but you've been very supportive c:. 
> 
> I hope you'll like this chapter! We're getting closer and closer to the end of this installment, I can't wait for the next one!
> 
> Here are the Trigger Warnings for this chapter:
> 
> TW for mention of self-harm  
> TW for mention of ableism  
> TW for mention of infantilization  
> TW for internalized homophobia
> 
> I think that's all! Good reading!

Richie didn’t know how many times he dreamed of that exact situation. Well, a few details aside, of course… He didn’t picture Eddie reading one of his old porn magazines (and he should definitely check all the places where he used to hide them, just in case) and he certainly didn’t imagine him going through a panic attack and crying as soon as he saw him. 

Richie still couldn’t believe how much Sonia Kaspbrak had messed up his best friend. After all this time they spent together, it still seemed clear that he hadn’t even started to uncover the many ways she hurt him. And it shouldn’t have been the case. Eddie deserved so much better, but she had to take everything away from him, just to make sure that he would still be under her control, no matter what. 

He had to educate Eddie on the matter. To let him know that it was okay to want to touch himself, that he wasn’t going to get sick or anything like that, that his mom lied to him once again. He could only imagine how terrified Eddie must have been when his mother caught him in the act and proceeded to fill his head with bullshit, going as far as to bring up his dead father to make sure he would never do that again. 

Richie had always kinda assumed that Eddie wasn’t very knowledgeable on the matter, not knowing how to talk to him about it, but he never thought that he had been traumatized like that. He should have… It seemed logical, coming from Sonia Kaspbrak. She kept treating him as a little kid, barring him from any kind of independence, any type of freedom. Of course, she wouldn’t have let Eddie experience those things without shaming him in the process.

Richie could only hope that Eddie would be able to talk about that to his therapist and, progressively, find ways to discover his body and his sexuality healthily. He should have been allowed to do so years ago… But it was never too late, right? Richie would encourage him. And keep his distances as well, because he wasn’t about to become a creep. A creep who would profit from his best friend’s ignorance to get closer to him…

Richie shuddered at the idea. Eddie would probably see no wrong in that, if he offered him to “help” him. He had almost no concept of privacy or modesty, thanks to his fucking mom who forced him to get filmed for a whole year at every angle, even when he should definitely have been left alone…

Richie realized how much Mrs. K’s education made his friend vulnerable, in so many ways. Eddie wouldn’t say “no” if Richie was enough of a creep and a pervert to ask him to touch himself in front of him. He wouldn’t protest if Richie started to touch him as well, especially if Richie managed to make him believe that it was “okay” for him to do that.

Richie loved Eddie, so much that it hurt, and his dreams were filled with scenes that were certainly not PG, but he would never do such a thing. The simple fact of imagining it was enough to make him want to throw up. But what about other people? People that Eddie would get to meet, to befriend? Would they have the same decency? The same respect for his friend? Or would they just take advantage of his ignorance, of his sheltered mind, and use him in every way possible?

Richie knew that he shouldn’t start to think like that. That he needed to trust Eddie and to stop hovering over him, to believe in him. But he couldn’t help it. Not when he had seen how much Sonia Kaspbrak hurt him and prevented him to develop healthy boundaries. Richie was scared for his friend. He was so scared that the world would keep making him suffer, after everything he already went through…

But right now, Richie was doing his best to keep his worries concealed. It’s been a few days since they had  _ the  _ talk and he was decided to help him clear his mind and have some fun. Seeing the efforts Eddie put in their ASL course, Richie was determined to reward him for that, as well as get them to leave the house and Derry for a while. That’s why he was currently driving, Eddie seated next to him, fiddling with his seatbelt and humming the song that was playing on the radio.

Eddie had taken a liking in wearing Richie’s sweatshirts and Richie wasn’t about to stop him from doing so, especially since it seemed to reassure him whenever they left the house. He was so cute, wearing his over-sized hoodie, his sleeves rolled up as much as needed to allow him to use his hands freely. Richie was dying to pinch his cheeks and to let him know how cute he thought he was.

But he didn’t, focusing on the road, singing the lyrics he knew from the song they were listening to. It was still one of the things he wasn’t yet comfortable doing to Eddie. It used to be a joke, although he truly thought that Eddie was cute, but he didn’t want to infantilize him or to make him feel like he couldn’t tell him to fuck off, as he used to when they were younger. Richie was doing his best to be less cautious around his friend and to treat him like before, but it wasn’t easy to do, especially knowing Eddie’s lack of boundaries in general…

They stopped at a red light and Eddie tapped on his shoulder to get his attention, showing to Richie what he had written:

_ Thank you for taking me out. Good to leave Derry. _

“You’re welcome, Eds. Honestly, it’s a relief to be able to get out of town from times to times. I hate Derry. It’s so… I don’t know… toxic, I guess?”

Eddie nodded, before writing quickly, not wanting to prevent Richie from missing the green light:

_ Missed Derry when I left. Because you were there. But now, I don’t really like it. Like being with you, though. _

Richie felt his heart beating a little bit faster. He mouthed an embarrassed “Thanks”, before he had to start driving again. He added, a smile on his lips:

“I like being with you too, Eds. Really. It makes Derry bearable. I’d like to be anywhere if I was with you, honestly.”

Richie cleared his throat, feeling awkward after what he just shared. He should actually start to think more about what he was saying… He didn’t want to slip up and confess unwillingly to Eddie. He wasn’t ready to hear that.

Best case scenario, he wouldn’t hate him for his feelings, but he might respond to them just because he thought that’s what he  _ should  _ do. And Richie wasn’t the kind of asshole who’d look for a relationship like that. Eddie deserved to be happy, no matter how. Even if it involved him getting away from Richie…

They were temporarily stuck in a traffic jam when Eddie got Richie’s attention once again, showing him his slate:

_ We could leave Derry. Not now, but at some point. Go somewhere else. _

Richie’s breath got stuck in his throat, reading Eddie’s words. That’s all he was dreaming about. Leaving this fucking town behind them, finding a place to live with Eddie, somewhere where they wouldn’t have to worry about what people would think about them…

“You… You’re sure about that? I mean… Don’t get me wrong, I fucking hate Derry. But that would mean that we’ll be leaving Mom and Dad behind. And Mike too. Though I guess we could try to convince him to go with us, being roommates and all. I’ll have to work and I won’t be able to be there for you as much as I am now. You might have to find another therapist too, depending on how far we’ll be moving out.”

Eddie bit his bottom lip, thoughtful and quiet for a while, before he started to write once again, passing his slate to Richie:

_ Not ready right now. But later. If you want to. Will find a job too. Don’t want to be useless. _

Richie softly sighed at Eddie’s last sentence. He ruffled his hair, keeping his eyes on the road, waiting to see when the traffic would get a bit better:

“You’re not useless, Eddie, and you’ll never be. It’s really cool that you’ll be able to work with Mike at the library, but it doesn’t change the person that you are and the fact that you’re clearly awesome. It just means that you’re now a sexy librarian, on top of everything else.”

Stupid, fucking motor mouth! Richie grinned cheekily, doing his best to play it as a joke, while Eddie’s cheeks were becoming red. He scoffed angrily, flicking Richie on the forehead before writing quickly:

_ Don’t tease me! Not funny! _

“Yeah, yeah, sorry, Eddie. I couldn’t help it. But more seriously, you don’t have to worry about that. I swear. I’m happy that you’re willing to find a job and all, but we’ll still find a way to make it work, no matter what. You’re still profiting from your mom’s books and all, so you already have quite a lot of money.”

Richie couldn’t believe it, when his parents told him that people were still buying Sonia Kaspbrak’s books. Mostly motivated by morbid curiosity, no doubt about it. He wondered if they should stop them from being edited, but ultimately, it was Eddie’s decision and, he told him at some point, he didn’t care. And he was able to make some money out of it, money that he could use later to repay the Toziers for everything they did for him. 

Richie and his parents had insisted that he wouldn’t have to do that, but Eddie was persistent as well. And, in the end, he was the one who would get to decide how to use his own money, that was part of him getting more and more independent, as time went by.

The traffic got cleared and Richie was able to drive at a normal pace, which meant that he couldn’t give to Eddie as much attention as he wanted. He still said to him, caressing briefly his cheek:

“And yeah, I’d be happy to leave Derry to live somewhere else with you. Whenever you’re ready. You’ll just have to say the word and I’ll start looking for a place to live and all. I’m sure Mom and Dad will be happy to help as well.”

Eddie nodded thoughtfully, before focusing on the road and what he could see from the car’s window. Richie let him do so, having a lot to think about as well. He was flustered and baffled at the same time by what Eddie just said to him. He didn’t think that his friend would be the one to ask to leave Derry. Eddie was very attached to his routine and that would definitely be one of the biggest changes he ever experienced.

Eddie always had someone to take care of him, even if Richie didn’t want to think about Sonia’s way of abusing him as her caring for him. Even now, he was relying on the Toziers for a lot of things, which was definitely understandable. But if they decided to leave, they would be on their own. Even if Mike decided to come with them, Eddie would still spend a lot of time alone, while Mike and Richie would work to pay for their rent.

If Eddie couldn’t find a job, it would mean that he would stay at their flat on his own, having to take care of himself. He’d go out as well, Richie would encourage him to do so anyway, something he never did all alone before. It was a bit overwhelming to think about, knowing that he couldn’t be there for his friend. Eddie might get lost, panic, have a meltdown and he wouldn’t have anyone around to help him. Richie wouldn’t be there for him.

Richie shook his head, Eddie raising his eyebrow at the sight, chasing away his doubts as much as he could. He had to believe in Eddie. He had to. Eddie was progressing every day, even after what happened with Bowers, and he was strong, as well as stubborn.

Maybe he’ll have some difficulties here and there, but he wasn’t going to give up. Even after everything he went through, Eddie was still able to laugh, joke, communicate. To say “fuck” to everyone who thought of him as a helpless child. And Richie would be there, even if it wasn’t at all times. And Mike too, if he agreed to come with them. Richie had to trust Eddie, to believe in his strength and his bravery, to let him know that he could also rely on him if he ever needed to. Because he was his friend. Because he loved him.

When they finally arrived in Bangor, Richie was relieved to be able to leave his car and stretch his overly long legs. Eddie tapped on his shoulder and started to sign slowly to him a sentence that he learned, his face adorably scrunched up while he was focusing to do so:

_ Are you okay, Richie? _

Richie gave him the thumbs up and Eddie beamed, happy to have been able to sign properly. It wasn’t easy for him, but he was getting there…

“Yeah, I’m fine. Ten more minutes stuck in traffic and I would have been unable to leave my seat, though. This car hasn’t been conceived to handle my giant legs. Or my giant di...”

Eddie stopped him before he was able to say his last word, putting his hand on his mouth. Richie chuckled at his embarrassed face, while Eddie rolled his eyes, huffing with a frustrated expression.

_ You’re the worst, Richie. _

“Yeah, I know. Thank you for supporting my annoying ass anyway, Eds.”

Eddie flicked him on the forehead, before writing on his slate:

_ Not allowed to say bad things about yourself. Only me. _

“Hey, that’s not fair!”

Eddie grinned at his exaggerated protestation, before grabbing his arm and snuggling briefly against it. Richie let him do so, feeling a bit self-conscious, but refusing to reject him as he did before, back when they went to see Mike at his library for the first time. He never forgot the expression on Eddie’s face when he let go of his hand, how hurt he seemed to be. Richie never wanted to make him suffer like that. 

People could think what they want, Richie cared more about Eddie than their opinion. That’s what he repeated to himself, allowing Eddie to stay close to him and grip his arm, while they were walking towards the tea house where they previously went with Mike. Eddie mattered more than his stupid fears. Why should he care about the way they were looked at? Richie would never see any of these passersby after that. But Eddie would still be here and Richie didn’t want to make him feel unsafe or rejected.

He was still relieved when they arrived at the tea house and were seated in their corner, where no one would bother them. Richie smiled tenderly when Eddie started to read the menu and flapped his hands happily, recognizing the drink he ordered the last time they came here. Richie settled on a chocolate milkshake and ordered some pastries as well, laughing when he saw Eddie’s eyes reflect how much he wanted to taste all of that.

“Careful, Eds, you’re going to drool all over the table.”

As an answer, Eddie stuck out his tongue, before hiding his mouth behind his hands, blushing at his own childish behavior. Richie immediately stuck out his tongue as well, pulling off a goofy expression, and Eddie started to laugh, forgetting his embarrassment in the process.

A satisfied smile on his lips, Richie let Eddie taste his milkshake before doing so himself, knowing that his friend might have hesitated if he put his “germs” on it first. Eddie wasn’t as obsessed with those things as he was before, but he still was, and Richie didn’t want to upset him uselessly.

For a while, they settled on a comfortable silence, enjoying the other’s presence and the taste of their drink and pastries. Richie realized that it was the first time he ever got to spend time alone with Eddie, outside of their home. Well, not counting the time he drove him to Bangor to eat some burgers. Eddie had been so upset and stressed out, he clearly hadn’t been able to enjoy it as much as he should have. And Richie had been anxious as well, as he always was every time he found himself unable to help Eddie, to pull him out of his thoughts and his suffering. 

But right now, they were both happy and relaxed, enjoying this peaceful time together. It almost seemed like a date… Richie blushed at the thought, hiding his embarrassment behind his over-sized milkshake. No, no, they were just friends enjoying a nice moment. Just the two of them. In a tea house. After Eddie held Richie’s arm to walk from his car to the establishment. Yep, just friends. Nothing more.

Eddie let out a small noise to get Richie’s attention, before signing carefully to him:

_ Thank you.  _

Richie nodded encouragingly, signing a “You’re welcome” while saying verbally:

“See? You didn’t make any mistakes while signing. You’re getting better. Soon enough, we’ll able to hold entire conversations in ASL. You’ll insult me and I’ll be the only one to be offended by your foul words, because no one else will be able to understand how much you’re mistreating me!”

Richie pulled off a dramatic expression and Eddie chuckled, writing on his slate:

_ As if I’m going to wait that long before insulting you. Idiot. _

Richie gasped exaggeratedly, flicking Eddie on the nose. Soon enough, they were both laughing, their faces red, struggling to breathe properly. At this moment, Richie really felt like they were back in their teenage years, teasing each other as much as possible, without a care in the world. Of course, things changed, but deep down, they were still the same. Everything that Richie loved about Eddie was still there, every single of his qualities and his flaws.

Eddie snorted loudly, trying to get himself to stop laughing, and Richie thought that it was the cutest thing he ever saw. He would never get tired of seeing Eddie laugh, that was for sure. Nonetheless, he stopped joking and goofing around so that Eddie would be able to calm down for a bit. His face was red and Richie noticed how much more his whole body was moving, flapping his hands, agitating his legs, squirming on his seat. They needed to get the pressure down.

Richie knew how easy it was to go from laughter to tears. His own emotions were a mess and he would suddenly find himself getting angry or anxious, when he was nothing, but happy in the first place. It was the same for Eddie, but Eddie had some troubles to distinguish his own feelings and might not be able to tell him that they needed to calm down. Not before it was too late anyway.

Richie ate one of their pastries, looking at Eddie in the meantime. He was drinking his tea, doodling on his slate with one hand, his breathing slightly erratic after having laughed so much. Richie let Eddie do so, more than happy to just be with him. Getting to look at him. Richie couldn’t stop thinking how beautiful Eddie was. His freckled face, his hair so neatly combed that Richie loved to ruffle, his eyes so big that they seemed to contain a whole galaxy…

Richie sighed happily and Eddie raised his head, looking at him with a curious expression. Realizing that he was giving him the heart eyes for too long, Richie shook his head, taking a deep breath before finally saying to Eddie, hoping that he wouldn’t find him weird:

“Sorry, I was just spacing out. Thinking about how happy I was to spend some time with my favorite tiny angry gremlin...”

Eddie rolled his eyes at the nickname, groaning audibly. He tried to sign something, realized that he didn’t have the words for it, and wrote on his slate, shoving it to Richie’s face:

_ Not tiny. Or a gremlin. _

Richie chuckled at his words but decided not to tease him more. Eddie  _ was _ tiny. He wasn’t as scrawny as he used to be, thankfully, but he was still quite small. And he’d probably stay that way for the rest of his life. Hard to say how much was due to his genetics and how much was to blame on the diet that Sonia forced him to adopt…

But Eddie was now eating as much as he needed and wanted, even things that he would have deemed unhealthy a few months ago. Richie still remembered the day they brought Eddie back home, how scared and meek he was, traumatized to the point that he didn’t dare to eat or to move without being allowed to do so.

Now, Eddie was happily munching on his pastries, teasing Richie whenever he felt like it, and he didn’t wait for their permission as much as he used to before, taking some initiative as well. Richie hoped that if Hell was a thing, Sonia Kaspbrak was there and could see how her son was thriving, away from her, despite her influence. She tried to break him, but Eddie was stronger than she thought. He bounced back and he was going to be happy, happy and free. Richie would make sure of that.

Richie felt Eddie’s hand on his. He jumped a little, surprised, but calmed down immediately as soon as he saw Eddie’s smile. He just wrote on his slate, showing it to Richie:

_ Happy too. To spend time with you. Lucky to know you. You’re the best. _

Eddie let go of his hand, hesitating for a second, before he started to sign. Richie observed him, a bit curious. Slowly, Eddie put his index finger on his chest, crossed his fists over his torso, before uncrossing his arms and pointing his finger at Richie. Then he stayed silent, his breathing quite uneven, waiting for Richie’s reaction. Richie who had sincerely no idea what he just said, and could only apologize, a sorry expression on his face:

“Yeah, uh, I… I didn’t understand any of that. Sorry, Eddie Spaghetti. Can you translate it?”

Eddie bit his bottom lip at his words, rolling his eyes before starting to write on his slate, shoving it to Richie’s face:

_ Means “Go fuck yourself”. See, I can already insult you in ASL. _

Richie laughed at his words, before copying Eddie’s previous signs, adding audibly with an amused voice:

“Well, go fuck yourself as well, Eds!”

Eddie let out a small whine afterward, writing quickly on his slate:

_ Need to go to the bathroom. Won’t be long. _

“Oh, okay. You want me to go with you?”

Eddie shook his head, quickly getting up from his chair. Richie could clearly see that something was upsetting him, but he didn’t know what it was. Maybe he was just getting tired. After all, it’s been a while since they arrived here and they interacted and laughed quite a bit. The trip had been long as well and Eddie’s nights hadn’t been exactly peaceful since he stumbled upon Richie’s magazine. Richie wouldn’t be surprised if Eddie was getting exhausted and didn’t dare to tell him. 

His doubts were basically confirmed when Eddie came back to him, his face flushed and his eyes bloodshot. He probably tried to hide it as much as he could, but Richie could clearly see that Eddie had been crying. He caressed his cheek with a concerned expression, whispering softly to him:

“Hey, are you okay, Eddie? We can go home if you’re tired. It’s fine, it’s been quite long. I had a lot of fun, you know. We can come back here later. Okay?”

Eddie nodded slowly, writing on his slate:

_ Tired. Sorry. Wanna go home. _

Richie caressed his hair, getting up and holding his hand gently:

“I told you, it’s fine. The trip back is gonna take us some time anyway, it’s better if we’re starting to head home now. But you know you can tell me when you’re getting tired or bored of something, Eds, right? If we’re not both having fun, then what’s the point?”

Eddie let out a small noise of approval, resting his head against Richie’s shoulder. He had been in the bathroom for a while, probably crying during all this time. Richie hoped that he didn’t hurt himself as well, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. Eddie asked to go to the bathroom alone and, even if he needed Richie to comfort him, Richie didn’t want to go against his wishes. He wasn’t about to ignore what Eddie asked of him, even if he wanted to be there for him. He had to believe in him. He had to.

After they left the tea house, it was becoming more and more obvious that Eddie was clearly exhausted. He always was, after a meltdown or a crying fit. Richie supported him while they walked, until Eddie almost collapsed, his legs unable to support his weight furthermore. Richie carried him willingly, laughing at Eddie’s small noise of protest, followed by a light snore.

When he was tired, Eddie would fall asleep at godspeed, something Richie found terribly endearing. He installed him in the car, making sure that he was comfortably seated. Fastening his seatbelt, Richie allowed himself to kiss Eddie on the forehead, before starting to drive them back home. Eddie didn’t wake up once, clearly exhausted. He stirred here and there, letting out various sighs and soft noises, but he seemed mostly peaceful, thankfully. 

Eddie’s nightmares were always so intense… Richie was heartbroken every time he woke up to his friend screaming or crying. When he was lucky, Eddie would accept his comfort and be able to go back to sleep while Richie was soothing him and reassuring him. But sometimes, Eddie was so scared that Richie couldn’t pull him out of this state, lost between his dreams and reality. He would hide under the bed, hurt himself or try to protect himself from Richie, as if his friend would hit him or punish him. It still hurt so much, no matter how many times it happened.

But right now, Eddie was at peace and Richie hoped that it would stay like that. Eddie deserved it. To be happy, peaceful, to know how much he was loved and cared for. Even if Richie could never tell him in what way he loved him. Caressing Eddie’s cheek, he focused on the road, his thoughts drifting here and there. Time was flying by. Soon enough, their friends would be there for the holidays.

Richie thought that he should probably call them before that. Get to know if everything was okay, reassure them, let them know that Eddie was doing fine, starting to organize their get together as well. Gosh, he missed them so much… And Eddie missed them as well, Richie was sure of it. It’s been so long since they were all reunited. Five long years…

But very soon, the Losers club would be reunited, in its entirety. Celebrating Christmhanukkah (or Hanukkahstmas, as Stanley preferred it) together. And a New Year to come...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Eddie once again escaped my control for this chapter xD. I can't wait to write from his point of view, he has a LOT to think about, after his little stunt (if you're not familiar with sign language, try to guess what he tried to tell to Richie ;) ). Also, we're going to see the Losers very soon, so it's gonna be awesome :D. 
> 
> Thank you all for your support and your kind words. I still have a whole week before going back to work, so I'm going to update as much as possible until then. I hope I'll be able to update weekly afterward, but it's hard to tell how well I'm going to handle having to go back to work. Crossing my fingers >_<.
> 
> Don't hesitate to leave comments and/or kudos, your words make me so happy! Have a nice day c:.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Here's the 25th chapter of this fanfic! It's kinda weird to think about the fact that my previous installment was actually finished at this point. I can't imagine stopping this one right now though. I still planned to write a few chapters before starting the next installment. 
> 
> Thank you for your support and your kind words. It really helps me to keep being inspired and to keep writing as well. You're truly the best readers I could have dreamed to have. I hope you're doing well.
> 
> Here are the Trigger Warnings for this chapter:
> 
> TW for internalized infantilization  
> TW for self-harm  
> TW for r-word  
> TW for internalized ableism  
> TW for mention of ableism
> 
> I think that's all. Good reading!

Eddie was deeply frustrated. That feeling lingered in his heart and his mind for the last few days, never quite dying down. Every time he started to calm down, he would think about his stupid confession and the feeling would come back, stronger than ever, torturing him wholly. Eddie was still unable to believe that he confessed to Richie. He fucking did! And he didn’t even know why he did that…

Richie was being so nice and funny, they were both at this tea house, without anyone around them, talking about leaving Derry and such. And Eddie had this impulse. The thought that, at this moment right then, he had figured it all out. He loved Richie Tozier. And he wanted to tell him. To show him how much he loved him.

Writing the words wouldn’t do it. Richie could think that he was joking. And even if he believed him, it wasn’t quite… right. Eddie wanted to express his feelings as genuinely and sincerely as possible. He couldn’t say them verbally, but he was able to sign them. To pour his emotions in this language they were learning together and hope for the best.

Eddie didn’t know what to expect as an answer. He started to suspect that Richie might have a crush on his friend, this Liz that Eddie hadn’t met yet, but he was ready to accept it if Richie denied him his feelings. As long as they were still friends, Eddie would be happy. As long as Eddie would keep having a place in Richie’s life, he would mend his broken heart and be the friend Richie needed. But he had to tell him. At this moment, it just felt… right.

He hadn’t anticipated that Richie wouldn’t understand his words. That’s something he learned while reading the book they borrowed at the library, but he thought that Richie would have learned it as well. But when his friend admitted that he had no idea what Eddie just meant, he had been caught by surprise and reacted instinctively, pretending that he was telling Richie to “go fuck himself”.

It was already awkward and painful. But seeing Richie returning him his feelings, without even knowing what he was saying to Eddie, blissfully ignorant, his dorky smile that made Eddie’s heart beat so fast… It was too much. Eddie had to excuse himself quickly, rushing to the tea house’s bathroom to explode. 

Muffling his voice behind his hand, clasped on his lips, he had used the other one to hit himself harshly, unable to process the flow of emotions that was invading his whole mind. It was too much, too much, too much! Eddie just laid his heart right in the open, only for Richie to not realize it and to unknowingly tell him what Eddie wanted to hear.

But Richie didn’t know what he just told him and thought that they were just playfully teasing each other, as they always did. The moment, this moment where Eddie thought it was only natural to confess, passed, and Eddie could only cringe, thinking back to what he just did. Maybe it was for the best that Richie didn’t understand him. He could have found him ridiculous or retorted to Eddie that he didn’t know what he was saying, that he was too stupid to love anyone like that. That Richie deserved better than the friend he was taking care of, the burden that he was.

Every minute passing by, crying and hurting himself in the bathroom stall, his thoughts got worse, laced with doubt and self-hatred. A part of him knew that Richie would never be that mean, even if he couldn’t answer to his feelings in the way Eddie wanted, but the other part was much louder and convincing.

He had been stupid. He shouldn’t have done that. He should have known better. Eddie bear, you poor, poor, naive boy… Do you really think Richie could ever love you that way? You’re broken. Useless. Your mommy was the only one who could ever truly love you and she’s not here anymore. Richie doesn’t love you. He’s merely  _ pitying  _ you. Nothing more.

Eddie had zoned out for a while and, when he came back to his senses, his whole body was hurting. He hadn’t stopped hitting himself all this time, so much that he was getting dizzy, his thoughts confused and feverish. Eddie did his best to conceal what he had just done, the tears drying on his cheeks, but Richie had noticed his predicament, and Eddie could only lie to him. It wasn’t totally a lie, but he didn’t tell him why he was so tired, why he just cried so much. 

Defeated by his exhaustion, Eddie had fallen asleep even before they reached Richie’s car, only waking up hours later, just in time to eat with his family. He tried his best to act naturally, but it was so hard to do… Eddie couldn’t stop thinking about what happened and didn’t know how to process it. This feeling persisted the next few days, leaving him cranky, tense, prone to tears and meltdowns. And he couldn’t explain what happened. He just couldn’t.

Eddie knew that he was worrying them all, but how to explain them? How to say anything without letting Richie know the stupid thing he just did? He shouldn’t have confessed. He knew that now. But it was too late, even if Richie didn’t understand him. Eddie expressed his feelings and now, he had to deal with the hurt, confusion, doubts that were plaguing him. The fear that Richie might finally get what he said and mock him for it. He just wanted to go back and stop himself from doing this stupid thing. But it was too late. As much as he wished to, Eddie couldn’t change the past. And it was haunting him.

Eddie had just woken up from a terrible dream this night, sweating, wheezing. He didn’t remember it exactly, but it was pretty sure that it involved Richie rejecting him. As he did in his dreams for the last few days, again and again, more and more violently. Eddie did his best to calm himself down, fearing that he might pull out Richie from his sleep and cause him to worry uselessly.

Richie was lying right next to him, holding him in a warm and tender hug, his breath tickling Eddie’s skin. Eddie couldn’t stop looking at him, his fingers close to his face, but not daring to touch him, not wanting to wake him up. His heart was beating fast, too fast.

They were so close. Eddie had never truly noticed how close they always were when they slept together, their bodies tangled in a warm hug, providing for the other a shield against the nightmares that would plague their nights. He felt his cheeks turning red, his breathing slightly ragged, a rush of feelings invading his body. Richie moved in his sleep and his leg brushed the inner side of Eddie’s hips, causing him to let out a shuddered whine.

Eddie put his hand over his mouth, scared that he might have woken up Richie, but thankfully, his friend was deeply asleep, not reacting to the sound he just made. Eddie couldn’t stay like that. He was never going to be able to go back to sleep again. Carefully, he left the bed, bringing his plush and his slate with him, before going down the stairs, heading for the kitchen. 

He poured cold water on his face, trying to wash away the heated feeling that was coursing through his body. He hesitated for a moment, but finally decided to check what was in the fridge, finding something to eat without much preparation needed. They told him that he was allowed to do so, if he was hungry, and Eddie clearly was. Or maybe not quite hungry, but  _ empty.  _ And he didn’t like this feeling at all.

Sitting on the couch with his plate, Eddie nibbled on its content, rocking slowly, trying to put some order in his thoughts. But to no avail. Eddie was just horribly confused and he didn’t know how to pull himself out of this predicament. He needed to talk to someone. But he couldn’t speak to Richie or his parents, they were directly concerned. Eddie was scared that Mike might go to Richie and talk to him if he confessed to him. That only left him his therapist, Dr. Park. Thankfully, he was seeing her in the afternoon, for their weekly session.

But he didn’t even know where to start. He had so many things to tell her and not just about his stupid confession! He… Eddie was lost. His body was reacting in ways that he couldn’t quite comprehend, so much that Eddie started to feel hot and weird in Richie’s arms, this same feeling that he experienced when he read this porn magazine days before. And it shouldn’t happen. 

Eddie slept many, many nights with Richie by his sides, but it was the first time he reacted that way and he didn’t know how to feel about it. Mostly, he was just confused. Finishing his plate, Eddie curled up on the couch, munching on his plush’s ear. He had progressively left his stuffed toy behind, not using it as much as he did when he arrived here for the first time, but right now, Eddie needed the comfort his teddy bear could provide to him. This reassuring feeling that allowed him to relax a bit, to chase away his disturbing thoughts…

Eyes unfocused, Eddie kept on nibbling on his plush’s ear, thinking about Richie. He wanted to go back to their room, to hug him, but he knew that the weird feeling would come back as well and Eddie felt ashamed. Ashamed and disgusted. Richie told him that he should do this kind of thing alone, but if he started to want to do them when his friend was there, right next to him… It wasn’t okay. It wasn’t appropriate.

Eddie whined weakly, feeling distressed. He curled up even more on the couch, humming under his breath, chewing nervously on the fabric of his plush. Why was it so complicated? Why was he so stupid? He confessed his feelings and now, he regretted it. Eddie was sure of what he was feeling towards Richie, he couldn’t be more certain about it. But Richie couldn’t possibly love him like that, right?

Maybe… Maybe Richie  _ did  _ understand him and pretended that he didn’t? Because he took pity on his poor, stupid friend? Eddie grunted at this idea, hitting his forehead. It was painfully obvious, now that he was thinking about it all. Richie was too kind to mock his feelings, but he couldn’t give him a positive answer and didn’t want Eddie to feel sad. It was easier to just lie, to say that he didn’t know what Eddie meant when he indeed did. 

Eddie started to feel angry. With himself, but with Richie as well. Friends weren’t supposed to lie! Why couldn’t he just tell him the truth? Why did he take pity on him like that? Eddie would rather hear a frank “no” than this bullshit that Richie just gave him! Sorry, I don’t know what that means? Of course, he did, he fucking did, how could he not? He was better than Eddie in ASL, after all, of course he fucking knew what Eddie meant!

Eddie got up, pacing in the living room, flapping his arms angrily. But it wasn’t enough. He was so, so frustrated and he didn’t have an outlet to let it out. He wanted to scream, but he knew that he would wake everyone up, so he was struggling to keep it all inside, not to make all this ruckus. He finally settled on biting his fingers harshly, scratching his cheeks with his other hand. The pain was helping. He needed it, right now. 

Eddie was so fucking angry! He should have understood it, right away! Of course, Richie lied! Richie wanted to protect him and Eddie stupidly believed him, when he should have known better. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Eddie experienced one of his longest meltdowns this night. He couldn’t control it, too intense, too strong, his mind swirling with furious thoughts, his body pushing him to hurt himself, again and again, so that he wouldn’t scream, so that he would be able to evacuate this unbearable energy in some way. At some point, Eddie curled up on the floor and stayed there, his eyelids fluttering, humming and humming and humming. He wasn’t even thinking coherently at this point, only feeling, feeling this harsh anger towards himself, towards Richie. That’s how Wentworth discovered him in the morning, waking up to go to work. At this point, Eddie was too out of it to struggle, pliant in his hands. 

He didn’t try to fight back when Went took care of his injuries, but he didn’t answer either when Mr. Tozier tried to get him to talk, to tell him what was wrong, why he wasn’t in Richie’s room. He finally gave up on the idea to get Eddie to communicate, settling him on his lap and rocking him softly to try to provide him some comfort. Slowly, but surely, Eddie managed to emerge from his near-catatonic state, his thoughts progressively becoming more and more understandable, less and less confused.

Maggie took over at some point, allowing Went to go to work. She was whispering tender words to him, caressing his hair, before guiding him to the table to get him to eat his breakfast. Eddie’s stomach lurched and he shook his head, but he didn’t leave the table. 

Now that things were starting to make sense, he felt… ashamed. He shouldn’t have been so angry and certainly not against Richie. He knew better than to hurt himself like that. He should have been able to calm himself down. How could he hope to be treated as an adult if he wasn’t able to act like one? No wonder Richie felt the need to lie to him… Eddie was such a crybaby.

He couldn’t look at his friend when Richie woke up and joined them. Richie noticed immediately that something was wrong and tried to get Eddie to talk, but to no avail. He didn’t want to see him right now. He needed to be alone. That’s what he wrote quickly on his slate, before going to their bedroom, slamming the door shut. Curling up on the bed, hugging his plush, Eddie tried to relax, but he couldn’t. 

He hadn’t showered yet. He couldn’t eat anything for his breakfast. His whole routine had been thrown out the window and Eddie was lost. What was he supposed to do? That never happened. He always started the day by showering and eating his breakfast. No, even before that, he started the day by waking up next to Richie. But he didn’t this time. He was downstairs, hurting himself, and Went was the one who saw him first this morning. Not Richie. 

Eddie hummed nervously, putting his fingers in his mouth to suck on them. He had no idea how long he stayed like this, gaze unfocused, thoughts confused, but when Eddie came back to his senses, he heard a knock on the door and Richie’s voice.

“Hey, Eds, can I… Can I enter? Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry if I did. I really am.”

Eddie whined softly. Richie hadn’t done anything wrong, it wasn't his fault. Eddie was just stupid and immature. Richie was just doing what he thought he should do to protect him. Because Richie was kind and wouldn’t want to hurt him. Because he knew that Eddie was fragile and couldn’t handle being rejected. It wasn’t his fault. 

Eddie forced himself to get up, opening the door for Richie, who was about to leave the area. Richie jumped at the sudden move, letting out a nervous laugh:

“Hey… uh… I knocked a few times, but you didn’t answer. Is everything okay? You must be starving. It’s lunchtime, you haven’t eaten your breakfast. You can talk to me, you know? And… And if I said or did something bad, you should tell me, Eds. My Trashmouth is the worst, sometimes. I...”

Richie stopped his rambling when Eddie hugged him. He was too nice. Too kind. He didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of Eddie’s anger. It wasn’t his fault if Eddie was stupid or too sensitive. He was just trying to preserve him. Eddie should know better than to make him pay for his kindness. He was the one who put him on the spot with his confession, who should have just stayed quiet on the matter and known his place. Instead, he told Richie that he loved him and put him in this delicate position. 

Eddie wasn’t feeling any better when he stopped hugging Richie. And, to be honest, he just wanted to go back to their room and lie on their bed for the rest of the day. But Richie was worried and Eddie didn’t want to cause him any more troubles. Taking his slate, he wrote clumsily, trying to force a smile on his lips:

_ Nightmare. Feel better now. Not your fault. _

It wasn’t totally a lie. He did have a nightmare after all. But that wasn’t what upset him like that. That was only his own fault, though, and Richie shouldn’t have to handle that. To bear his mood swings or how stupid he was.

“You’re sure? Eds, you know you can talk to me if you need to, right?”

Eddie nodded. He knew that. But he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to tell Richie that he understood his lie. Richie would only feel bad afterward. It was better if he just… shut up. And keep all of that inside him. Eddie could do that, right? He could do that…

*

Eddie was alone for his therapy session. He told Richie that he should go see Mike, that he wanted to do it on his own. Richie didn’t protest or insist, but he ruffled his hair and reminded him once again that he was there for him if needed. Eddie knew that very well. That was the problem. Richie was too gentle with him and Eddie didn’t deserve that from him.

He didn’t know where to start. Eddie was on edge, hugging tightly his plush, sitting on his bed, facing Dr. Park who was looking at him with her peaceful expression. Usually, it helped him to feel relaxed. But right now, Eddie was too tense, too agitated. He knew that he had to talk about his confession, about Richie, as well as his sexuality and it was just… too much.

“I can see that you’re stressed out, Edward. Let’s start with a few breathing techniques, okay?”

Eddie nodded and followed Dr. Park’s instructions, trying to release some of the pressure that was crushing him. For a while, they only did that, exercise after exercise, and, even though he still felt tense, Eddie managed to calm down a bit. Dr. Park offered him an encouraging smile, showing him the cards they were using for his therapy:

“On a scale of 1 to 10, how anxious are you feeling right now?”

Eddie hesitated for a moment, but he finally touched two cards, “7” and “8”. He couldn’t quite choose between those cards, both felt appropriate. Dr. Park nodded at his answer, putting the cards on the nightstand:

“Okay, it’s quite a high number. Not as high as it probably was when we started our session, but still. This is something we need to take care of. I can see that you’re sporting fresh bandages on your face. I’m guessing that you might have hurt yourself recently?”

Eddie bit his bottom lip, avoiding Dr. Park’s stare. He promised that he would try to work on his self-harming tendencies, but instead, he just lashed out and bit and scratched himself. And for a stupid reason on top of that. 

“I’m not reprimanding you, Edward. It’s not my intention. I’m merely trying to understand what happened and see what we can do to try to help you. This is a safe space here. I won’t judge you, no matter what you’re willing to tell me. But I can see that you’re hurting and I think it would be a good thing if you managed to share what’s bothering you that much.”

Eddie wanted to talk. But he didn’t know what to say, where to start. His brain was just awfully confused and when he began to write on his slate, he would only erase the few words he expressed, unable to find what he wanted to say, frustrated by his inability to put his thoughts into a coherent sentence. 

“Take your time. We’re not in a rush. And I’m here to help you. You don’t have to explain immediately what happened. Let’s do things slowly.”

Dr. Park stayed silent for a while, a thoughtful expression on her face, before she finally asked him:

“What’s the root of your problem? Who or what caused you to feel so anxious?”

Eddie hummed under his breath, trying to find what he wanted to say. Richie was his first thought, but it wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t the direct cause of his trouble. He merely tried to protect Eddie after Eddie impulsively confessed to him. No, no, he knew exactly what was the root of his problem, of every single one of his issues.

_ Me. Stupid. _

He showed his slate to Dr. Park, who raised an eyebrow at his words:

“You’re not stupid, Edward. What makes you think that way?”

Eddie groaned at her answer, rocking nervously. Of course, he was stupid! He knew it, she knew it, Richie knew it, everyone knew it! But they were too nice to tell him otherwise and Eddie was getting tired of that! He wrote quickly on his slate, using his other hand to pull on his hair and letting out a frustrated whine:

_ Stupid, stupid, stupid! Shouldn’t have told him! Can’t control weird feelings! Stupid, disgusting, stupid, disgusting! _

“Edward, I need you to do the exercise we practiced together, okay? Remember?”

She showed him the move she taught him to try to replace his self-harm, once, twice, thrice. At first, Eddie kept pulling on his hair, but he finally relented, reproducing the gesture again and again and again. He didn’t stop, focusing on it while she was talking to him:

“You’re not stupid and you’re not disgusting. What do you want to talk about first? The feelings you think are weird? Or this thing you feel that you shouldn’t have told?”

Eddie took a deep breath, trying to untangle his feelings and his thoughts. He finally managed to write on his slate, showing it to Dr. Park:

_ Feelings. Weird feelings. Hot and intense. _

“Okay, let’s talk about those feelings first. Hot and intense, you said. Can you tell me more about it? What happened when you found yourself feeling this way?”

Eddie took his time to write down his thoughts. He described his feelings as clearly as he could and what caused them. Dr. Park let him do so at his own pace, never interrupting him. She merely nodded and showed that she was listening to him, something that Eddie appreciated. He still had trouble sometimes to believe that people were paying attention to his words…

When Eddie finally put the final sentence on his slate, the weight on his shoulders felt a bit lighter. He sighed, before putting his slate down and hugging his plush, waiting for his therapist’s reaction. She adjusted her glasses, offering him one of her supportive smiles:

“It’s a good thing that your friend was there to help you process these feelings. You’ve been deeply affected by the way your mother treated you and it’s understandable. It’s very brave of you to try to explore those feelings that are scaring you that much. It’s something that you should have been allowed to explore earlier, in a safe environment, but it’s never too late to do so.”

Dr. Park cleared her throat, playing with her hair, before she added:

“Although, I have to inform you that what you’re seeing in these magazines is not meant to be realistic. Pornography is meant to illustrate people’s fantasies. Everything is exaggerated, disproportional, fake. You shouldn’t expect reality to conform to what you’re seeing in those magazines. I’d advise you to read some books on sex education to get a better idea of what it’s really like.”

Eddie nodded, writing on his slate:

_ Going to the library real soon to get some books. Mike’s looking for good ones. _

“That’s a good thing. It’s okay to be curious about those things and to either read or watch pornographic content, but it’s not meant to educate you on the subject. I’m glad to know that your friends are looking out for you. Do you want to talk more about those feelings, perhaps?”

Eddie hesitated. He hadn’t told her yet that he felt those things towards _ Richie. _ That he dreamed about him and felt weird in his arms. That he finally understood that he was in love with him and foolishly decided to confess. It was difficult to admit. Even though they talked briefly about it before, Eddie was about to confirm his feelings and, maybe, she was going to dismiss them. To tell him that he was truly an idiot, having put Richie in this uncomfortable position, thinking, for a moment, that he could ever love him back that way.

“Edward, can you hear me?”

Eddie snapped out of his thoughts, realizing that he was scratching the palm of his hand painfully. He closed his fist on his thumb a few times, trying to calm himself down, to fight the urge to hurt himself. Eddie finally nodded, trying to find the courage to express his thoughts. He needed to talk. He had to tell the truth. Even if it meant that he wouldn’t like to hear his therapist’s opinion on the matter.

He wasn’t a baby anymore. He had to be brave and accept to be criticized. Breathe in. Breathe out. Eddie finally wrote on his slate, showing it to Dr. Park before curling up on the bed and whining anxiously:

_ Weird feelings for Richie. Had dreams about him. Used ASL to tell him I love him. Said he didn’t understand. But he did. Doesn’t want to tell me.  _

Dr. Park needed a few seconds to process what Eddie just wrote and to know where to start. Meanwhile, Eddie kept on whining, too nervous to stop, hands gripping his head painfully. Dr. Park did what she could to calm him down and Eddie found himself sucking on his fingers, hazy gaze, waiting fearfully for her reaction. For her to tell him that he didn’t know what he was talking about. That he wasn’t supposed to feel these things for his friend. That Richie did lie to him and that he had every reason to do so.

But she didn’t say any of those things. Far from it.

“So you told him that you love him, using ASL. And from what he told you, he didn’t know this sign and didn’t understand what you just said. This is what happened. You think that he lied to you, but it’s merely speculation on your part. Let’s focus on the facts, okay? Do you want to tell him again about your feelings? The fact that you love him and that you’re interested in him sexually as well?”

Eddie shook his head, writing on his slate:

_ No. Know that it’s stupid. Can’t love me.  _

“Why do you think Richard couldn’t possibly love you, Edward?”

Eddie rolled his eyes at her question, the frustration coming back at full speed. As if it wasn’t obvious! He groaned audibly and wrote quickly, so quickly that Dr. Park had some troubles to read what he had just written:

_ Can’t love me. Stupid. Retard. Childish. Can’t do anything without help. Burden. Deserves better. Someone to love, not to take care of. Not me. Shouldn’t have told him.  _

He hated the fact that he had to write that, as if she didn’t know precisely why Richie didn’t love him, as if it wasn’t painfully clear already. No one would ever love him like that. He knew that. He knew that and yet, he confessed. Eddie hated himself for that. He hated himself so much.

He started to wheeze, his hands gripping his chest, his fingernails clawing his shirt in a fearful movement. He wanted his inhaler. It’s been years since he used it, but right now, he wanted to. It used to calm him down when he was like that, he needed it, he needed it, he needed it!

“Edward, you’re having a panic attack. Follow my voice and my breathing, would you?”

She guided him through various exercises and, progressively, Eddie managed to calm himself down, to breathe normally. Curled up on his side, he was back to sucking on his fingers, feeling exhausted after what he went through. But he listened to Dr. Park, while she was talking to him as she always did, treating him as an adult, not dumbing down her words:

“Your disability doesn’t make you unworthy of romantic love, Edward. Needing help either. Some of my patients are actually in a relationship and they’re still experiencing difficulties close to yours. They’re not cured of their mental illness or their disability and a few of them have to rely a lot on their partner on a daily basis. But it’s something they talked about and agreed on.”

Eddie was still listening to her words, but he was having trouble believing her. To apply her words to himself. He wasn’t worthy of love. He was too much. He couldn’t… He shouldn’t…

“Some patients asked for a session with their partner. I helped them to explain their condition, what it entailed. Their partners were overwhelmingly supportive. One of them told me that they wouldn’t trade their lover for anyone else in the world and that it was only normal for them to support their partner through their most difficult moments. They found comfort in each other, love, support, understanding. It isn’t just a one-way street.”

Eddie still couldn’t entirely trust her words. But he straightened up, sitting cross-legged, and was giving her his full attention, while trying to analyze his relationship with Richie. Was it really more than a one-way street? Eddie felt that Richie was always there for him, but was he there for his friend as well? He knew he tried. But was it enough?

“I would lie to you if I told you that this kind of relationship always worked out. Some of them don’t. It can be an issue of communication or something else. A partner who wasn’t ready to be there for their loved one as much as needed or who didn’t respect their companion’s boundaries and limits, for example. I’ve seen a few people who thought that their love could  _ cure _ their partner’s predicament and it’s a very dangerous mindset to have. But I don’t think Richard thinks of you that way, right, Edward?”

Eddie shook his head. Richie didn’t want to cure him or to make him less autistic. He told him many times. He encouraged him to be more independent, but he was also there to help him if needed. He didn’t push him and respected him. Even when Eddie couldn’t quite communicate, Richie wasn’t infantilizing him, unlike his mother or his ex-therapist. He… He treated him just right.

“I can’t tell you what Richard is feeling towards you. If he’s thinking of you as a friend or a potential partner. But I’m pretty sure he doesn’t think that you’re stupid, retarded or that you’re a burden. And we’re going to work together to chase away this kind of thought from your brain, alright?”

Eddie managed to smile sincerely and nodded, letting out a noise of approbation. He still wasn’t sure of Richie’s feelings, but he started to think that his own feelings were valid and that someone could love him as well. Even if it wasn’t Richie. He was disabled, he was different, but that didn’t make him unworthy of love. Someone might love him one day. He didn’t know when, he didn’t know who, but it might happen.

He hoped it would be Richie. He really hoped. But he wasn’t ready yet to ask. He started to believe that Richie honestly didn’t know what he meant and he wanted to work a bit more on himself before trying again. That way, he would really be able to handle it if Richie didn’t want him as a partner. And if Richie wanted him… Well, Eddie didn’t know what would happen exactly, but that would be a wonderful thing, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eddie begins to believe that he can actually be loved romantically, that's a start. I struggled for a while with this kind of thought and the only relationship I ever had was one of those "bad" relationships Dr. Park described. I communicated openly about my disability, but my partner didn't think much of it and started to think as himself as my "caregiver", a thought that was encouraged by his folks as well, even though I never expected that of him. He started to resent me for that (and for my asexuality as well) and acted like a dick to get me to break up with me. 
> 
> I don't regret this relationship, but I probably should have broken up way earlier than I did. Anyway, I think it's going to be really cathartic to write Eddie and Richie in a healthy relationship together. Not that it's going to be perfect, but I want to show them communicating, working through their issues, supporting each other as well. The next installment will be mostly about their new kind of relationship and what it entails. I have still a few things to write before, notably Christmhanukkah and the Losers coming back, and it's going to be super fun to write!
> 
> Thank you all for your support. Don't hesitate to leave a comment and/or kudos, it's still a pleasure to get to read what you thought about this chapter and what you think's going to happen in the next chapters c:. 
> 
> Have a nice day! See you soon!


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! I hope you're doing okay. Thank you for your kind reviews and your support! Here's the 26th chapter, I hope you'll like it. 
> 
> Here are the Trigger Warning for this chapter:
> 
> TW for mention of self-harm
> 
> I think that's all for this one! Honestly, I couldn't think of another Trigger Warning, but if you think about something, don't hesitate to tell me, okay? Good reading!

Mike wasn't available at this time of the day. Richie looked at the library's door with an incredulous gaze, reading what was written on the poster placated hastily. The paper was mentioning that Mike was in a meeting with the town council and that the library would be open again the next day. Richie sighed. Now, what was he supposed to do, exactly? 

Eddie was having his therapy session and asked Richie to leave the house for a while. Richie had a bad feeling about all of this. After his meltdown and the way he avoided him during most of the morning?

There was something wrong here, and Richie couldn't pinpoint it exactly. Eddie didn't want to talk about it either. Nightmares, he said. But Eddie usually looked for his comfort when he had a bad dream, so there must be something else. Something Eddie was sharing with his therapist, but that he wanted to be sure that Richie wouldn't hear about…

Richie sighed, walking back dejectedly to his car. Should he just wait here for a while? Eddie's sessions could be quite long and, as curious as he was about the whole thing, Richie didn't want to come back too early and hear something he wasn't supposed to.

Eddie was establishing his boundaries, and Richie wanted to respect that. To show his friend that he listened to him and that what he was asking wouldn't be brushed off anymore. Eddie had a right to privacy and secrecy, just like him. 

Richie wasn't ready to talk about his homosexuality, so he could understand that Eddie might not want to share some stuff either, whatever it was. As long as it wasn't torturing him and that he was able to freely talk about it with his therapist, Richie would be okay with feeling out of the loop. Or he'll try, at least.

He was tapping nervously on his wheel when he suddenly realized what he could do. Mike couldn't be reached out, but there was someone else he could talk to. Someone he wouldn't have to lie to. Spotting a phone booth, Richie pulled out Liz's phone number, hoping to reach her. He let out a relieved sigh when she picked up the phone:

"Liz, I'm so happy to hear your voice!"

"Hey, Richie, what's up? I'm glad that you called me. Everything's okay?"

"Yeah, just… Do you think we could hang out somewhere? If you know some nice places around Bangor…"

Liz stayed silent for a while, and Richie started to get cold feet, mumbling while fiddling with his glasses:

"You don't have to, you know. I'd get it, it's okay, I..."

"Richie, relax, dude, I didn't say no. I'm just thinking. Do you just want to hang out, or do you want to talk about something that could potentially be complicated to share in a public space?"

Richie bit his bottom lip at her words. Of course, she would know… He felt a bit guilty, calling her only to pour his heart out. That's also what he wanted to do with Mike, to be completely honest. God, he was really a terrible friend…

"Hem… The second option?"

Liz laughed at his words, but not in a mean way.

"Yeah, I figured. You can come to my place if you want. It's not super big, and it's kind of messy, but we'll be alone at least. You're okay with that?"

"Yeah, totally! Perfect! Thanks, Liz."

"Anytime, Richie."

She gave him her address, and Richie hung up, going back to his car to drive there. After a few back-and-forths across Bangor, he managed to find her building. Richie was about to enter when he realized that he should probably bring something to her. He was imposing himself so suddenly, he could at least show up with chocolates or something like that.

He had thought about buying her a wine or beer bottle they could share. However, Richie was still too young to be legally allowed to purchase alcohol. He doubted that he would be able to bypass that as easily as he could back in Derry. He settled on a chocolate box and a soda bottle. Better than nothing, probably.

Liz hadn't exaggerated when she told him that she was living in a closet. The apartment was quite tiny, but it seemed cozy despite the mess that she warned him about. Richie handed Liz what he just bought, smiling at her enthusiasm:

"You're too cute for your own good, Richie! Thanks for the chocolate and all. Let me get rid of some stuff, so you can sit on my sofa. Also my bed. Also the piece of furniture on which I'm spending most of my time when I'm in my flat. Don't mind the stains, it's just an old thing I picked up somewhere. I cleaned it and all, but they never vanished completely."

She was as energetic and chatty as she was the last time he saw her. Richie sat on the couch, feeling quite relaxed in this mess that reminded him of his own. He smiled, thinking about Eddie's reaction if he ever came here. His friend would have had a stroke, writing too quickly on his slate to tell him about the dangers of living in a place like that, the kind of germs that could crawl on them if they dared to sit on the couch, and so on. Yeah, if he ever brought him along to Liz's place, he might have to warn her beforehand about his friend's germophobic tendencies…

Liz sat next to him, handing him a glass filled with the soda he just bought. He thanked her, and she shrugged, picking a chocolate from the box she displayed on her coffee table. She let out a pleasured moan at the taste, apparently not concerned by the idea that her neighbors might hear her.

"You're a delight, Richie! So, come on, tell everything to Auntie Liz! What's bothering you like that?"

Richie didn't really know where to start, to be honest. And he didn't want to betray Eddie's trust either. People have been too keen to share details about him without ever wondering if Eddie was okay with that, if he would have preferred to keep these things private. Fiddling with his glasses, he started to ramble, eyes downcast:

"Uh… I… I'm sorry, we should just have a nice time, and I'm coming here, only to dump that on you and..."

Liz interrupted him, poking his cheek with her index finger:

"Hey, Richie. I would have told you if I wasn't in the mood to talk with you, okay? I'm not one to force myself to do something if I don't want to. I'm happy that you came to me to talk about this stuff, whatever it is. I'm pretty sure I could do the same if needed, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course!" Richie answered immediately, almost offended at the mere idea that he would only use her like that and never be there for her as well.

Liz smiled at him, ruffling his hair:

"See? It's fine. Come on, tell me everything!"

Richie cleared his throat, searching for his words. He started to shake his leg nervously, not very at ease with the exercise:

"I… I think Eddie's angry with me, and I don't know what I've done. I don't know how to fix that."

"Eddie's the guy you have a crush on, right?"

Richie nodded. It was a pretty simplistic summary of their relationship, but he couldn't deny it. He did have a hard crush on Eddie. Just thinking about him was enough to make his heart racing… And knowing that he was upset about something and that it was probably his fault was quite a painful thought to have.

"He had a difficult night, and he avoided me the whole morning. He's seeing his therapist at home this afternoon and, usually, I'm here with him. But he specifically insisted for me to leave the house for a while and… I don't know… I guess I'm just worried? What if he keeps avoiding me? What if I hurt him, and I keep doing so by mistake? I don't know what to do..."

Richie hid his face in his hands for a minute, letting out a sad sigh. He always woke up with Eddie by his sides, either asleep or already awake. But this morning, he wasn't there, and Richie had clearly seen fresh bandages on his face and some of his fingers, when he came down for breakfast.

Eddie had hurt himself, and he refused to tell why. Richie hoped that he would be able to talk about it with his therapist, but… but if he persisted in keeping it as a secret, Richie would never know what he might have done wrong. And he could hurt him again.

"It's just… It's so complicated. On one hand, I really want Eddie to talk to me and to tell me what's wrong. But we're also working on him setting his boundaries and being allowed to say "no", so I can't just force him to talk either. I don't know what to do..."

Liz rubbed his back gently, with a compassionate expression on her face. Richie appreciated the gesture. She was listening to him patiently, not showing any signs that she was judging him, and, honestly, that's all he needed at the moment.

"Did you ask him what's happening?"

"Yeah, he said to me that he had a nightmare and that I shouldn't worry about it. But he never tried to avoid me like that after one of his bad dreams, so, of course, I'm concerned! I just… I want him to be happy, you know? He went through so much shit in his life..."

Eddie was still able to laugh, smile, and live his own fucking life, despite everything that happened to him, despite his mother and the abuse she put him through. But right now, Eddie wasn't feeling well, and Richie was torn apart at the thought. He should have been able to understand and do something to cheer him up, but he was useless… Worst of all, he was probably the root of Eddie's current issues, and he had no idea how to fix it.

Liz kept on rubbing his back, finishing her glass before saying to Richie:

"Okay, so, first of all, let's not overly dramatize the situation more than necessary, alright? Your friend is currently seeing his therapist, he has someone to talk to that can help him figure out his feelings and thoughts. Maybe there's something he misunderstood. Maybe he really did have a nightmare that he needs to talk about, you don't know, and you shouldn't try to guess endlessly. It's not going to do you any favors. What you can do is to have a nice time with me and, once you get back, to tell him once again that you're there for him if he needs to talk. Okay?"

Richie took a deep breath, trying to calm his anxious thoughts. He wanted to be there for Eddie. He wanted him to know that he would always be there for him and that he could trust him. That he could talk to him about anything. To be honest, he was kinda itching to go back right now and to pull Eddie into a hug to tell him all of those things. But he knew that it was his overbearing tendency talking and that he should definitely NOT obey this impulsion, as tempting as it sounded.

"Yeah, okay, fine. I guess you're right. It's no use, torturing myself trying to come up with theories on what might have happened."

"I'm always right, Richie! Is there something else you'd like to talk about?"

Richie shrugged. Truth be told, he had many things he'd like to share with Liz. Liz, who could understand him in a way no one else in his entourage could. Liz, who wasn't holding back her words and who would be frank with him, even if it was painful.

Nibbling on a piece of chocolate, he finally managed to order his thoughts enough to tell her, avoiding her gaze:

"How do you cope with the idea that the person that you love will never return your feelings?"

Liz seemed taken aback by this question, apparently not expecting it. Richie bit his bottom lip, his face flushed, his heart beating slightly too fast:

"Whenever I see Eddie, I'm just… It's like I'm melting. There's this part of me that wants to hug him and kiss him and tell him how much I love him. But I know that if I ever did that, I would ruin everything. Eddie needs me as a friend, someone to support him, to be there for him. He's confused about a lot of things, and he's only starting to learn what he should have been taught years ago..."

Richie didn't want to expand on the subject. Eddie's sexual education was none of Liz's concern. If it was something that Eddie wanted to talk about, he would do it himself. But Richie wasn't about to spill the beans to anyone else, even if it was preoccupying. He didn't really know how to help Eddie with that, besides trying to find books suited for his needs, hopefully not bigoted. Which wasn't an easy thing to find, as for now…

"If I told him about my feelings, he might reject me or… or he could be scared or something! I don't know, it's just… It's getting harder and harder to keep it under wraps, you know? I was hoping that it would get easier, but it's not the case. I love him, I love him so much and… and I really want to tell him."

"Then, maybe you should."

Richie jumped at Liz's casual answer, looking at her like she was some kind of alien:

"What?"

"I'm serious. It's obvious that your feelings for him are not just a passing fling and, I can assure you, it's not going to get better. I mean, I guess you might forget about him if I found you a nice guy to shag..."

Richie had started to drink, which was an unfortunate choice at the moment. He spilled what he had in his mouth, wiping his face with a shocked expression:

"What the fuck? I'm not going to… to shag anyone! What's up with the British lingo anyway?"

Liz laughed at his reaction. She got up to get a towel and clean his mess, a smile on her lips:

"I don't know, I just like the word. And yeah, I figured that it wouldn't be your thing. You're the romantic type. Devoted and all. That's cute. And a bit sad too, if you decide to never tell him what's up with your feelings."

She sat back next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder:

"I think you should tell him. Plainly, clearly, simply. I love you romantically. Something he can't misunderstand and not too detailed either. You don't want to have him run away because you started to describe all the ways you love him, especially the most graphic ones..."

Richie grimaced at the idea, asking with a compassionate voice:

"Talking from experience?"

Liz chuckled at his words:

"Yes, I'll admit it. Baby gay me thought it would be a good idea to tell my painfully straight crush that I pictured her in my bed, doing all sorts of kinky things. She didn't appreciate it. I haven't seen her since then. Now, I'm a bit more measured, I might say."

"You're a disaster, Liz."

"And a proud one! But more seriously, I really think you should tell him at some point. From what I understand, he relies a lot on you, and it's not temporary, right?"

Richie nodded at her assumption:

"I'm not sure he'll ever be able to live independently, but I'm okay with that. We started to talk about moving out at some point. He's not quite ready for now, but it will happen one day or another. I'll be there for him, and he's decided to be there for me as well. He can be stubborn, for sure."

Eddie was always trying to be there for him, even if he didn't know what to do, even when it was difficult for him. He was there to "protect" him from his therapist, from the treatment he received himself and thought that Richie would have to handle. He was there to try to keep him safe from Bowers and his gang, even if it meant that he would lose it in the process. He was listening to him, comforting him, hugging him… Richie heated at the thought, knowing how much Eddie was there for him at every moment, in spite of his issues, in spite of his troubles. Fuck… He didn't deserve him.

"I… I don't want to hurt him, you know? He… He deserves to be happy, and if that means that I can never tell him, then…!"

Richie yelped when Liz poked him in the ribs, jumping from the sofa:

"What the fuck? That hurts!"

"Sorry, Richie. I just wanted to stop you in your bullshit, and I just did that. I didn't know you were ticklish..."

She laughed, ominously moving her fingers, a wicked grin on her face:

"Should I torture you until you admit that you deserve to be happy too?"

"What? No! Don't come near me with your evil fingers, you witch!"

Liz got up, walking towards him with an exaggerated menacing expression on her face. Richie swiftly avoided her, but the flat was too small to allow him to run away from her for too long. She tackled him against the wall, poking at his ribs ruthlessly. Between two laughs, Richie managed to say, out of breath:

"P… Please… stop..."

"Not before you surrendered, Richie!"

She kept tickling him, and he finally tapped on the wall a few times, admitting with a broken voice:

"O… Okay… I de… deserve to be… happy. Satisfied?"

Liz released him, smiling widely. Richie sighed, rubbing his skin and taking a deep breath. She was evil, she was clearly evil! He sat on the couch with another sigh, looking at her friend with an annoyed gaze:

"You're a monster, you know that? Is that the treatment you're giving to every single one of your guests?"

"Only the self-deprecating ones. Like you, Richie. I can agree with you that your friend deserves to be happy, but you can't just sacrifice your well-being for him either. If it's too painful for you to stay by his sides without admitting your feelings, you're going to have to make a choice at some point. Even if it's painful or hard for you."

Richie sighed at her words. He knew that she was right. But he didn't want her to be. It would be so simple if he could just like Eddie as a friend and be satisfied with what they shared. He wouldn't be so tormented all the time, and he would be able to be there for him in a proper way…

"I'm not telling you to jump on him when you're back home and to immediately admit your feelings. He might be startled if you did, and I wouldn't blame him, honestly. But it would be a good thing if you started to pave the way for your future declaration, you know? Test the waters and see if you think it's something he would accept from you, even if he might not return your feelings… Not that you should kiss him or anything like that, but you could start to be a bit more tactile..."

Richie couldn't help but laugh at her words. Liz raised an eyebrow, curious about his reaction:

"What?"

"Honestly, I don't know how I could be  _ more _ tactile than I already am. We're sharing the same bed, and we're hugging pretty much all the time. Sometimes, he's holding my hand as well. He likes to sit on my knees too. To rub his face against my chest and all. He likes the feeling."

The look that Liz gave him at his words spoke volumes. She let out a long, a very long sigh, wiping her face.

"Let me get this straight, pun intended. You're telling me that you're sleeping together, that you're constantly hugging. That he's the one who wants to hold your hand and that he's regularly sitting on your knees as well. That he's… Geez… That he's rubbing his fucking face against you, which is probably the cutest thing I've heard about recently. And you… you really think that he doesn't love you romantically?"

Richie immediately reacted defensively, crossing his arms over his chest:

"It's… It's just how he is! He's always been affectionate and tactile with everyone, it's not just me, I..."

"Really? You're telling me that he's just holding anyone's hand whenever he feels like it? And that he's sitting on every random person's knees if he wants to do so? That's really what you're implying, Richie?"

"I… uh..."

Richie thought about Eddie, about all of those instances where they have been tactile. Sure, he hugged Mike when he saw him after all of this time. And he did it here and there when he was happy to see him, but… but he never hugged him like he hugged Richie. He never touched him like he touched Richie. He… He…

"No. No, that's just how Eddie is. I can't… It's not…"

Richie felt his throat closing up. He fought the tears that wanted to roll down his cheeks, mumbling in a broken voice:

"I don't want to hope. I can't. I'm not strong enough for that."

Liz immediately engulfed him in a tender embrace, shushing him and rubbing his back:

"Hey, hey, you're okay. It's fine. I know how you feel, Richie, I know how hard it is sometimes. Give yourself some time to think about that, okay? I'm also here if you need to talk. You can call, you can come, it's okay. Don and Adrian are also there to help, you know? And your therapist too. You're not alone in this."

Richie stayed like that in her arms for a while, letting the pressure go down. It was… It was just complicated. And he didn't know how to deal with all of that. But she was right, he didn't have to figure it all out immediately. He could take his time. Talk to those who knew what he was going through. 

He wasn't supposed to rush things. On the contrary, it would be even worse. In the refuge of Liz's hug, Richie allowed himself to relax and feel safe and protected. He wasn't alone. He wasn't alone.

"I'm… I'm sorry, Liz."

"Come on, Richie, stop apologizing like that. It's fine. It's okay to rely on your friends sometimes. I'm here for that, you know?"

"Yeah, sor… Thanks, I mean."

She nodded approvingly, a smile on her lips:

"That's the spirit, Richie. Tell you what: we're going to leave all that behind for now and you're gonna tell me frankly what you think of my new song. I just wrote it, I need a fresh and frank look. Care to help?"

"Yeah, no problem. I'd love to listen to you."

Liz let him go, getting up to grab her acoustic guitar with an enthusiastic expression. Right when she started to sing, Richie couldn't prevent himself from laughing loudly:

"Oh… Oh my god! You're terrible!"

Although the music that she was playing was kinda pleasing to hear, Liz was an awful singer. She was always off-key, no matter what, which seemed to be some kind of talent in itself. And her lyrics… Richie didn't know if they should be qualified as perverted or sappy, but they were definitely somewhere in the middle.

He couldn't stop laughing, while Liz was persisting with her song, her lips trembling while she was trying to resist, to not start laughing as well. When she finally finished her "masterpiece", she giggled helplessly, unable to stop:

"I… I never said… that I was… good..."

And she laughed even more, wiping her teary eyes, her breathing ragged and uneven. Richie was probably as hysterical as she was, his face red and his glasses slightly skewed:

"Fuck, I thought… I thought that it was gonna be… emotional. But you… you..."

"I know, I'm a fucking disaster! I'm… I'm good with the guitar, but otherwise, I… I'm so bad."

It took them some time to calm themselves down, finding hard to resist an incoming laughing fit whenever they were looking at each other, even when they tried their best to stay quiet and not aggravate their situation. Richie's ribs were hurting so badly, he was awfully relieved when he finally managed to stop laughing. 

"T… Thank you, Liz. I… I needed that."

"Anytime, kiddo. I'm there for you, don't forget about that, alright?"

Richie nodded. He bit his bottom lip, fighting the urge to laugh once more:

"Hey… Did you… Have you… Have you tried to serenade some girl with your… hem… your talent?"

Liz cleared her throat exaggeratedly, and it was enough of an answer to send Richie back into a laughing fit. God, she was awful… And awesome as well. Richie was thankful to have her as a friend. Someone who wouldn't judge him for his feelings. Someone who accepted him for who he was. Someone who understood him deeply.

She was right. He should tell Eddie about his feelings. But not now. Maybe… Maybe for New Year's Eve. A new year, a new beginning. At least, the cat would be out of the bag. Richie could only hope that Eddie would react well. Even if he didn't love him that way. They could still be friends, right? Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, they're both decided to talk about their feelings! But who will be the one the first one to do so? Technically, Eddie is, I guess, even if Richie didn't understand him at the moment. 
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter! I was glad to bring back Liz for a moment. Richie should have spent some time with Mike at first, but I figured it would be more appropriate for him to go see Liz. 
> 
> Don't hesitate to leave a comment and/or kudos, I'm always happy to read your thoughts! We're getting closer and closer to the conclusion of this installment, I'm so excited! Thanks again for your continuous support, it means so much to me.
> 
> Have a nice day! See you soon!


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Here's the 27th chapter! For this one, we're moving a bit forward in time, I hope you'll like it! Thank you all for your comments and your support, I hope you're doing okay c:.
> 
> Here are the Trigger Warnings for this chapter:
> 
> TW for internalized ableism  
> TW for mention of a suicide attempt  
> TW for self-harm
> 
> I think that's all! Good reading!

If there was something that screamed “Christmas”, it was definitely snow. Eddie had always been fascinated by it. He would spend hours at his window to see it fall and fall, yearning to be allowed to go outside and play, like most of his peers. But Sonia Kaspbrak was not too keen on letting her son roam around usually, and the snow made it even worse. You’re too fragile, Eddie. You could fall ill. You’re sure that you should go to school in this weather? Mommy can keep you inside, where it’s hot and safe, where you won’t risk getting sick…

But Eddie was not fragile. And he was not a little boy anymore. Even so, he didn’t dare to ask Richie or his parents to be allowed to spend some time in the backyard. There was something in him holding him back, a fear, the idea that it would be foolish for him to do so. So, he didn’t, watching the falling snow while sighing longingly. 

Richie was the one who asked him if he wanted to go outside. And of course, he did! He really, really wanted to! Richie had laughed at his overjoyed answer, smiling at the way Eddie flapped his hands and moaned happily, running to their bedroom to put on more appropriate clothing for the weather.

All bundled up, Eddie waited on Richie to be ready, swaying back and forth on his feet, trying to contain his enthusiasm, but clearly failing to do so.

Finally, they were outside! Eddie raised his head, watching the snow falling, blinking and wiping his face with his two hands when his skin got too wet. He took a deep breath, finally closing his eyelids and focusing on the feeling he was experiencing. Cold. Tingly. Soft. Eddie liked it. He liked it very much. 

He had no idea how long he stayed like that, but when he returned to his senses, Richie’s hand was holding his, a hot and gentle touch that Eddie could only embrace.

“I’m guessing it’s not something you got to do very often?”

Eddie shook his head at Richie’s question. He couldn’t really say much more, given that he didn’t bring his slate with him for practical reasons, but it’s not like there was really a lot to tell. Sonia Kaspbrak was Sonia Kaspbrak, and that was it. Eddie wanted to enjoy his current day, not to think about the past and how he kept being denied the simplest pleasures of life. 

Richie knelt down, forming a snowball in his hand before throwing it at Eddie’s coat, earning an offended yelp from his friend. 

“What? Just trying to give you a taste of what it’s like to play in the snow. Don’t look at me like that!”

Eddie started to plunge his fingerless gloves in the snow as a retort, but he didn’t. Sitting in the snow, he allowed himself to enjoy the strange feeling on his skin. It was cold, so freaking cold! It almost hurt. But he liked it. He liked it even more when the tip of his fingers started to reheat, a tickling and prickling feeling on his skin. Lips slightly parted, humming happily, Eddie kept doing the same thing again and again, enjoying how it felt. 

He wasn’t quite aware of how Richie was looking at him, his tender gaze following his every move. Eddie was just… happy. Engulfed in what he could only call sensory heaven, Eddie’s humming turned into an enjoyed moan. He started to shake slightly when Richie got his attention, getting up and holding out his hand to him:

“Come on, Eds, you’re gonna turn into a snowman if you’re staying still in the snow like that. Gimme your hands, I’m going to warm them up.”

Eddie kinda wanted to keep doing that as long as possible, but he relented, getting up as well and letting Richie rub his fingers softly while blowing on them. He put back the flap cover on Eddie’s fingerless mittens, which earned him a pouted expression. Richie chuckled at the sight, caressing Eddie’s face:

“Hey, you can take them out if you want, I’m not forcing you to do anything! I just think you shouldn’t stick your fingers in the snow and stay immobile for so long. You might catch the flu.”

Eddie shrugged at Richie’s words. He wasn’t fragile. He wasn’t going to get sick just because he put his hands in the snow, that would be ridiculous of him! But he let the flap cover on his fingers, agitating them under the soft protection that it provided. The Toziers made sure that the winter clothes they bought for Eddie would be adjusted to his sensory needs. It took them some time, but they managed to get him stuff that he could wear without feeling like he was burning or literally dying. 

Eddie had made a mistake, touching some velvet scarf, and he hadn’t been able to retain the yell that slipped past his lips as soon as he felt the fabric under his fingertips. His body reacted as if he just tried to grab an oven rack and was now suffering the consequences of his move. That had earned him some looks, and Eddie had been more than happy to leave the store, embarrassed by the way people kept staring at him. He didn’t do it on purpose, he just… He didn’t mean to scream like that.

Those clothes were just fine, and Eddie loved wearing them and enjoying this snowy weather, just like anyone else could. With Richie. Richie who was preparing another snowball and was grinning at him, waiting for Eddie to imitate him. Eddie was more than happy to throw himself into the battle, running after his friend, trying to get him covered in snow. 

Eddie was freezing and sniffling when they finally returned to the comfort of their home, but he couldn’t stop smiling, cooing happily while drinking the hot chocolate that Richie prepared for them both. This was a part of Eddie’s routine for the next few days. They always found time to go out and enjoy the snowy weather, the cold and burning feeling on his sensitive skin, the endless snowballs fights with Richie… Indeed, December was the best time of the year! But not just because it was snowing or because they’ll get to celebrate Christmas. 

No, December was the best month because it was time for the Losers to  _ get back.  _ Eddie was waiting, waiting for them to be here after all this time. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, about them all. He was excited, mostly, but there was a part of him that was clearly anxious as well. Richie tried to set up a phone call to get Eddie to talk to them beforehand, but it didn’t allow Eddie to speak smoothly to any of them, and the few sentences they managed to exchange were, at best, stilted. 

As happy as he was to get to talk to Bill after all this time, Eddie got frustrated quickly by the slowness of their communication. Richie had to tell Eddie what Bill was saying on the phone, then Eddie would write his answer, and Richie read it for him and so on. They didn’t manage to find a better system, and Eddie just gave up after a few awkward exchanges, letting out an angry whine and running away to their bedroom to sulk in peace. 

He had waited for so long to get to talk to his friends again! He thought that he finally could, after all this time, only to realize that there was nothing natural about it and that Bill was probably as annoyed and frustrated as he was by their discussion. Maybe his friend would experience those same feelings when he’ll be seeing him again? Eddie had changed a lot since the last time they saw each other. And… And Eddie hadn’t been exactly nice back then. What if Bill and everyone else was angry at him, but didn’t dare to tell him the truth? 

Richie had joined him in their room, lying down next to him and holding him tightly in his arms. For a while, they just stayed like that, quiet, thoughtful. Then Eddie started to cry, and Richie comforted him as best as he could. It wouldn’t be long before they’d see each other for real. Of course, Bill was looking forward to it, as well as Stan, Beverly, and Ben. Eddie was still their friend, and nothing would ever change that. 

Eddie wasn’t totally reassured when he finally managed to calm himself down, but he was mostly able to keep his anxiety under control, hugging Richie, trying to hope for the best. Richie wouldn’t lie to him, right? And Mike had been happy to see him back, so why would it be different for his other friends? Eddie did his best to chase away his doubts and wait patiently for them to be back, but it wasn’t easy. 

Even as he started to work at the library, doing his best to be a good assistant for Mike, Eddie found himself zoning out, trying to picture how it would go. Stanley was going to be the first to arrive, so that he could celebrate Hanukkah with his family. He was bringing his girlfriend as well, something that was really intriguing to Eddie. And kinda scary too. 

He didn’t know her at all. Would she be okay with him? Outside of his friends and his therapist, people were either condescending or outright mean with him. Well, there was also Greta’s case, trying to be friendly, coming off as awkward, but he hadn’t seen her in a while, and it didn’t really matter. What mattered was Patricia Blum, that was her name, and how she would act towards him. 

Truth be told, he’d rather have her outright despising him than to hear her talk to him like he was two years old and didn’t understand anything. He hated to be treated like “Derry’s precious angel”, as if he could do no wrong, as if he was too ignorant to understand more than fucking baby talk. But most people treated him that way, ignoring his written words, talking directly to Richie or whoever was with him, as if he wasn’t able to hear them clearly and to get what they were saying. It was so frustrating!

Eddie was obsessed by this idea, so much that he lost himself in his thoughts once again, while he was arranging the library’s books, as he was supposed to. He didn’t realize that he stopped working or that he was starting to hum quite loudly, focused on what his mind was picturing vividly. Patricia Blum treating him like a child and Stan letting her do so, waiting uncomfortably for Eddie to leave so that he could enjoy Richie’s presence. That’s how it would happen, right? That’s definitely what was going to happen…

When Mike came to check on him, putting his hand on his shoulder to catch his attention, Eddie jumped, startled, avoiding his touch. He insisted that it was nothing and that he could go back to work, but Mike asked him if they could take a break and, over a cup of hot coffee, Eddie poured his heart out, writing his doubts frenetically on his slate. 

Mike didn’t dismiss his feelings, nor he confirmed them. He just listened to Eddie and offered him a gentle smile, telling him that no matter what happened, Richie and he would be there for him. That he understood Eddie’s fears, but that he had to remember that he wasn’t alone in this. That Richie would likely give hell to anyone daring to treat him in a way that Eddie disliked, even Stan’s girlfriend. 

Eddie remembered all too much how alone he used to be. How he would muffle his cries, whines, and screams behind his hands or in his pillow, so that his mother wouldn’t hear him. How terrified he was that she would see him like that and decide that she has to “pacify” him, either by pinning him to the ground or taking away his things, as if it was something he chose to do voluntarily and that he needed to be punished for that.

But Eddie wasn’t so scared to express his feelings anymore. Because he had people that would listen to him and let him know that what he was experiencing mattered. That  _ he  _ mattered, as a human being. Mike had managed to reassure him a bit, and he had gone back to work, trying to keep his mind focused on the task at hand.

And then,  _ the _ day happened. Eddie was pacing all over the living room, unable to stay still for more than a few seconds. Richie seemed as agitated as he was, truth be told, and Maggie tried her best to calm them down, offering them to sit on the couch to watch a movie with her or to take part in a board game.

“Anything so that I don’t have to see the two of you walking in circles again and again.”

Eddie whined at her words, writing on his slate as quickly as he could:

_ Stan late. _

“It happens, Honey. Maybe their plane got delayed, maybe Mr. Uris is holding them back a bit more than Stanley thought initially...”

Or maybe he had been caught in an accident, and he needed their help, and they had no idea! Eddie started to hum anxiously, and Richie stopped his fast pacing to get next to him and hug him tightly.

“It’s okay, Eds. Stan the Man will arrive. And his girlfriend too. I’m sure she’s going to love you, by the way. Hey, maybe Stanley is worried that you’re going to steal his lady, and that’s why he’s late!”

Eddie huffed at Richie’s words, rolling his eyes. As if! Eddie was only interested in someone, and this someone was actually hugging him and grinning like an idiot at his reaction. And even if it wasn’t the case, Eddie wasn’t a backstabber. Not like Patricia would be interested romantically in him, anyway… Because of how he was…

Eddie shook his head, trying to get rid of this negative thought. No, he deserved to find love just like anyone else! He needed to stop thinking like that. Eddie took a deep breath, putting his hands on Richie’s arms that were still hugging him tightly. He was fine, he was fine, he was f…!

The doorbell rang, and Richie let go of him. Suddenly, Eddie didn’t know if he wanted to open the door or to run away to hide under the bed. Richie helped him to make a choice by holding his hand, winking at him:

“Come on, Casanova, let’s go break some hearts!”

Eddie let out an annoyed noise, flicking Richie on the forehead, but he followed him, heart beating fast. It’s been so long since he saw Stanley. For a while, he thought that he and every single one of his friends had collectively forgotten him or that they were better off without him. But they just had no idea where Eddie was and had no way to contact him. And now… Now, they were about to be reunited again.

Richie opened the door, and Eddie hid instinctively behind him, his breath caught in his throat. Noticing that, Richie smiled openly, pulling him slowly from his hiding spot:

“Hey, don’t be so shy, it’s just Stan the Man. And his… My, oh my, you’re super cute, Missy!”

The woman fiddled with her glasses, her cheeks turning red, and Stan let out a sigh:

“Richie, don’t make Patty run away so soon, please. I’d like to be able to introduce her properly to the Losers club before that, at least.”

Patricia offered him a smile and a kiss on the cheek, looking at Richie with a cheeky gaze:

“It’s okay, Stan. I know how your friend is. Besides, I’m studying to become a preschool teacher, so I should know how to handle him.”

Richie put his hands on his heart with a dramatized expression on his face:

“Oof! Burn, lady! How am I going to recover from that?”

Patricia laughed at his antics, but her attention was quickly focused on Eddie. Eddie who stayed behind, not knowing how to react, twisting his fingers nervously.

“Eddie, am I right?”

Eddie nodded, and she held out her hand to him, a soft smile on her lips:

“I’m Patricia Blum. I’m glad to finally meet you. Stanley talked a lot about you. About all of you.”

She looked at her boyfriend, who was seemingly frozen, staring at Eddie, his hands shaking slightly. Mrs. Tozier arrived to salute them, and Patricia used that occasion to leave them alone, rubbing Stanley’s shoulder:

“Stan, ahuvì, I’m going to talk with Mrs. Tozier for a while. Join me afterward?”

Once again, she kissed him on the cheek and followed Maggie, who insisted that the young woman should call her by her first name. For a minute, they just stayed like this, silent, still, unable to process the flow of emotions that was coursing through their body. Eddie was the first one to react, making the first step, holding out his hand to Stan. Stan looked at it briefly, before opening his arms for a hug. 

Eddie didn’t hesitate for a second and threw himself at him, grabbing Stanley, resting his head against his chest. It wasn’t long before his feelings started to get out of control, and he finally cried, sobbing and sniffling. It had been so long! He… He missed Stanley so much. Their chess games, their banters, the quiet moments they spent together, watching Stanley’s birds… Eddie missed Stanley’s frank words, his presence, his dry humor, everything.

The memories were all coming back, and Eddie could only sob and sob, unable to calm himself down. Richie brushed his hair softly, whispering to his ear:

“Come on, Eds, let the poor man breathe. What about me? I want a hug too!”

Eddie chuckled at his words and finally managed to let go of Stanley, who let out a sigh. Even though he had answered to Eddie’s hug, crossing his arms over his friend’s silhouette, it was quite apparent that it wasn’t something he was used to or appreciated particularly. Rubbing his wrists in a nervous tic, Stanley smiled briefly at Eddie:

“I… I missed you, Eddie. I’m glad to know you’re okay.”

Eddie nodded happily, while Richie tapped the ground with his foot:

“And me? You didn’t miss me? It’s been a whole year, dude! Stan the Man, I’m offended.”

Stan rolled his eyes at his words:

“It’s been too short, to be honest.”

“Ugh, my heart! Stan the Man, a guest is supposed to respect his host, remember?”

“And I respect Maggie dearly. And your father as well. You’re merely squatting here.”

“I’m mortally wounded! Eddie, help, I’m dying!”

Richie rested on Eddie’s shoulders, who yelped as a protest and tried to get rid of the dead weight that Richie currently was. To no avail. He found himself bent on the ground, crushed by Richie’s body, who kept letting out exaggerated wails of agony. 

“Boys, when you’ll be finished with… whatever you’re doing, care to join us for a snack and a cup of tea?”

“Coming, mom!”

Richie got up, helping Eddie on his feet, who proceeded to flail his hands angrily and to let out an annoyed moan. Stanley smiled at the sight, a smile that was quickly replaced with an exasperated expression when he realized that they would keep acting like that for the rest of his stay:

“You two didn’t change a bit, uh?”

Eddie sat next to Richie on the couch, resting his head on his shoulder with a pouted expression, while Richie shrugged, a sassy smile on his lips:

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Stan the Man. Eddie Spaghetti here is still as tiny as ever, but I’m gigantic, and that’s not the only thing that became even bigger, if you’re catching my dri… Ouch, Mom, stop that!”

Maggie had proceeded to pinch his ear, holding back a laugh:

“We’re not talking about those things at teatime. Or ever, when I’m around.”

“Hai, hai, captain. Understood.”

It wasn’t long before the initial awkwardness subsided totally. Richie and Maggie were quite gifted to make people feel at ease, and Eddie managed to keep his feelings in check, writing a few remarks here and there, but mostly happy to just be there with his friend. Should he offer him to play chess? He missed their games so much! Maybe later… For now, they were catching up, Maggie all too enthusiastic about asking many, many questions to the happy couple:

“So, how did you two meet? Was it as romantic as I imagine it?”

Patricia and Stanley exchanged a quick look, before Patricia answered, smiling tightly:

“Well, we met at the hospital. I was volunteering here, and Stanley was visiting a friend...”

_ A friend? _

Eddie wrote on his slate, curious, showing it to Stanley and Patricia. Stanley cleared his throat, shifting on his seat:

“Yes, a friend. It doesn’t matter.” Stanley answered a bit dryly, before nodding to Patricia: “Proceed, Patty.”

_ Are they okay now? Are they still in the hospital? _

“They’re not relevant to the story, Eddie, for fuck’s sake!”

None of them expected Stanley’s sudden outburst. His hands were shaking slightly, the mug that he was holding threatening to tip over. An uncomfortable silence fell over them. Eddie whined weakly, his heart beating too fast, not understanding what he did wrong. He must have said something bad or… or he wasn’t supposed to interrupt them, he was supposed to let Patricia talk, and he didn’t! Stupid, he was stupid!

Curling up on the couch, Eddie rested his head on Richie’s lap, humming anxiously. Putting his fingers in his mouth, he started to suck on them nervously, keeping himself as quiet as possible. He shouldn’t have talked. He should have stayed quiet and listened to Patricia. Instead, he had been rude, and Stanley was annoyed with him. It was his fault, it was his fault, it was his fault…

Eddie started to pull on his hair with his other hand, and Richie promptly stopped him, shushing him softly:

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, you didn’t do anything wrong. Stanley is just cranky. Right, Stan?”

Eddie didn’t notice the pointed look that Richie gave to his friend. Stanley was nervously tapping his mug with his spoon, once, twice, thrice, always at the same rhythm, while Patricia was gently rubbing his knee.

“Yeah. Sorry, Eddie. I’m just… cranky. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m in the wrong. Not you.”

Eddie slowly nodded, but he didn’t leave his position and stayed out of the rest of the conversation, sucking continuously on his fingers. It was better if he didn’t talk at all. He just saw Stanley again after all of these years, and the first thing he did was to upset him… Eddie was an awful friend. No matter what they said.

Richie kept caressing his hair, a soft touch that made Eddie sigh, while talking to Stanley:

“So, uh, you’ve seen Mike yet?”

“Yes, we went to the library before coming here. Mike was quite busy, so he didn’t have much time for us, but he was happy to see us.”

Patricia put her hand on Stanley’s, squeezing it tenderly:

“Isn’t it great how your friend decided to do what he wanted instead of following his family’s expectations? He looked so happy...”

“You’re not as subtle as you think you are, Patty.” Stanley’s tone was a bit dry, but his eyes were telling a whole other story, and Patty could read into them perfectly. They seemed right for each other, in a way that Eddie couldn’t quite understand. He hoped he would get to experience something like that as well, one day. Maybe with Richie…

The rest of their conversation went smoothly. Eddie managed to relax a bit, thanks to Patty, who did her best to get him to participate in their discussion, never pushing too much. She was… kind. She looked serious and a bit too tight, but truthfully, she could give Richie a run for his money if she felt like it. But, most of all, she was lovely, radiating a tender aura that almost instantly made everyone feel at ease. She was perfect for Stanley. And she seemed to love him dearly as well.

As a token of peace, Stanley challenged Eddie to a chess game, and Eddie was all too happy to play against him. It reminded him of their school year, the way Stanley would focus on his every move, as if they were at war, and he couldn’t afford a single mistake. Eddie was bolder, but he didn’t play much since he came back, and he was a little rusty. Stanley won the game easily, causing Eddie to pout and to write angrily on his slate:

_ You cheated! _

“Still a sore loser, I see. How can you even cheat while playing chess, anyway?”

Richie intervened, rubbing Eddie’s shoulders, a snarky expression on his face:

“Don’t listen to him, I saw Stan the Man hiding pawns in his sleeves, he’s a wicked warlord! No wonder he always won against me, when I agreed to take part in this snooze fest...”

Stanley rolled his eyes:

“It’s a chess game, not a snooze fest. Besides, I always won against you because you can’t focus for more than three seconds on anything. You either gave up entirely, or you just sabotaged your game.”

Richie thought about it for a second, exchanging a look with Eddie, before he answered cheekily:

“Nah. I think you’re cheating, Stan the Man.”

Stanley just sighed as an answer, prompting a laugh from Richie, then Eddie. Patricia joined them, hugging Stanley briefly and kissing him on the cheek:

“Don’t listen to them, ahuvì. I know you’re the best.”

“Wrong!” Richie retorted, ruffling Eddie’s hair. “My tiny angry gremlin IS the best. Not his fault if Stan is cheating...”

Eddie nodded, before reacting to Richie’s nickname with an angry whine, writing on his slate:

_ Not tiny! _

“Yes, you are. My tiny, Eddie Spaghetti… Eddie Spaghettiny!”

Richie laughed loudly at his new nickname, but quickly stopped when Eddie got up to flick him on the forehead. Just like before… At this moment, Eddie felt like he was fifteen again, having fun with his friends, not a care in the world. But he was not a kid anymore, and maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing… He wasn’t under his mother’s thumb anymore, and he could just enjoy being with his friends. With Richie, with Mike, with Stanley… and, soon, with everyone else.

Time flew by, and Patricia and Stanley had to go home. Eddie and Richie walked them back to their car, keeping an eye out for Bowers or any reporter. Thankfully, none of them was there at the time. Eddie relaxed instantly, waving his hand to say goodbye to Stanley and his girlfriend. They did the same, saluting Richie as well. Stanley was about to climb up in his car when he changed his mind, sighing:

“I can’t just not tell them...”

Eddie raised an eyebrow at his words, confused, while Patty was caressing his cheek softly, a worried expression on her face:

“You’re sure, ahuvì?”

“Yeah, Patty. I’m sure.”

Stanley sighed deeply, before rolling his long sleeves up, revealing the scars on his wrists. Eddie gasped silently, while Richie let out a “Jesus fuck” at the sight, adding quickly:

“I… uh… Sorry. I had no idea. I...”

“That’s how we met, Patricia and me. She was volunteering at the hospital. I was a patient. Father doesn’t know, that’s the story I told him. Mother told me that I should keep it consistent, tell the same thing to everyone else I didn’t want to know about that, just in case. Can you stay discreet on the matter? The Losers know, but aside from them...”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. I… Why didn’t you tell me?”

Stanley shrugged at Richie’s words:

“You had other things to think about. Besides, it’s not like you called very often to make sure we were okay.”

Eddie saw Richie biting his lips at Stanley’s direct words, and he took his hand in his, squeezing it tightly to show his support. He focused back on Stanley, letting out a worried noise:

“I’m fine, Eddie, don’t worry. I have a treatment, and I’m seeing someone as well.”

“And I’m there for him too,” Patricia added, a soft smile on her lips. “I’ll always be there for him.”

Stanley’s face went red at her words, and he turned his head away to hide his embarrassment. He took a deep breath, covering his wrists and tapping on them with his fingertips:

“Most people don’t really ask for details when Patricia or I tell this story. I wasn’t expecting that. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you like that, Eddie, though. I’m sorry.”

Eddie shrugged, offering him a reassuring smile as if to say, “It’s okay”. And it was. Eddie should have just listened instead of pestering them with their questions. Even if they told him it wasn’t his fault, Eddie knew better. He should have been more careful.

Eddie waved them goodbye while Stanley and Patricia finally went home. He focused back on Richie, who was looking in the direction they left thoughtfully, mumbling under his breath:

“I’m really a fucking bad friend...”

Eddie immediately protested his words, whining loudly and shaking his head. He hugged Richie tightly to comfort him, while Richie chuckled at his actions, caressing his hair:

“You’re too good for me, Eds. Let’s go home. Dad will be back soon.”

Eddie followed Richie back, staying close to him, always touching him to let him know that he was there. No, he wasn’t too good for Richie. Richie was too good for  _ him.  _ And that he couldn’t see that boggled Eddie’s mind endlessly. But he had all the time in the world to make him understand how wrong he was. And how awesome he truly was as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, this chapter was hard to write! I don't even know why, maybe because I'm not used to moving forward in time like that. I hope you liked it anyway! I finally got to bring back Stanley, we'll see more of him in the next chapters. And Patty too! I haven't seen her much in the movie or in the miniseries, but she seemed to be a really nice character and Stanley and she truly deserved to be happy. I hope I did her character justice for the short time I portrayed her c:.
> 
> Don't hesitate to comment and/or to leave kudos, I'd love to read your thoughts on this chapter, whether they're positive or negative. I'm always open to proper criticism c:. Have a nice day, see you soon!
> 
> Oh, I forgot to mention it, but ahuvì means "my love" in Hebrew, I thought it would be a beautiful nickname that Patty might have for Stanley c:.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Here's the 28th chapter! I hope you'll like it. I'm going back to work in two days and I might not be able to update as much as I did for the last few months, but I'll try to update at least once a week. Thank you all for your support and I hope you'll adapt to my new schedule (I'll have to adapt as well, writing has become such an important part of my routine, I don't know how I'm going to adjust).
> 
> Here are the trigger warnings for this chapter:
> 
> TW for mention of suicide attempt  
> TW for ableism  
> TW for internalized homophobia  
> TW for internalized ableism
> 
> I think that's all! Thank you and good reading!

Stanley was quite busy with his family and their celebrations, but he had been more than happy to free himself from his obligations when Richie called him to invite him to go to Bangor, along with Mike and Eddie. Richie had smiled over the phone when Stanley shyly asked if Patty could come as well. As if he would say no to that… Which didn't prevent him from teasing his friend mercilessly, who finally hung up after a long, very long sigh.

Richie hadn't stopped to think about his conversation with Stan since it happened. About the scars on his wrists and the guilt he felt, knowing he never cared enough to call him and offer him a shoulder to lean on, a friend he could rely on. Instead, Richie had been wrapped up in his life, first with his depression over Eddie's departure, then with him being back, so focused on him and himself as well that he almost didn't reach out to his friends at all.

Stanley was his best friend. Since they were young, Richie had always been there for him and Stanley as well. He was the one who managed to ground him, tame his wild energy, and get Richie to enjoy some quiet moments here and there, watching his birds and talking about many matters, knowing that it would always stay between them. 

Richie had seen him in his worst moments, and Stan had been there too for him. And yet, Richie… Richie hadn't noticed at all. He didn't call, he didn't ask, he just… he just treated him horribly.

But Richie wanted to fix his mistakes. To show to Stanley that he cared and that he was there for him. That he would be there for him from now on, if he ever needed him, but also just as a friend. His best friend. Hence the invitation. They could enjoy some time off Derry as well, which was quite a relief.

Richie didn't want to hang out in Derry anymore. It was too dangerous. He couldn't risk running into Bowers again, even more so now that Stan and Patty were with them. He wouldn't forgive himself if he put his best friend and his girlfriend in harm's way. Who knew what kind of fucked up thing Bowers and his gang might put Patricia through? No, no, better to step out of Derry for a while. Eddie would feel more relaxed as well.

He was anxious every time he had to stay outside for a moment, even if it didn't last long before he climbed into Richie's car to go back home or to drive to his workplace. But it wasn't the case in Bangor. Eddie was able to have some fun without worrying about Bowers and his goons or even the reporters that harassed him. Out of Derry, Eddie was rarely recognized anymore, which he was thankful for.

It was snowing lightly this day, just a few snowflakes here and there. Enough to make Eddie giddy, displaying his happy flapping more than usual and humming with joy, a pleasant sound that Richie could listen to for hours and hours. They were currently sitting in his car, waiting in front of the Uris' house for Stanley and Patty to join them. Mike was already with them, chatting with Eddie, while Richie was looking at the front porch, tapping his fingers on his wheel.

He had always been intimidated by the Uris' household. For him, it reeked of unfair display of authority, lack of freedom, and unbearable rigor. Well, it was mostly coming from Stanley's father. His mom was nothing but sweet. Unfortunately, she didn't have much of a say and would only hide in her husband's shadow, providing comfort and love to her son as soon as she didn't have to worry about his father's reaction.

Richie would never have been able to survive with a father like this. He could only be thankful to be a Tozier and have his amazing parents, supportive and caring, no matter what. But maybe they wouldn't be like that for long, if they knew about his homosexuality…

Richie shook his head, chasing away this unpleasant thought. He wanted to have a good time with his friends, he wasn't going to ruin that by sulking endlessly. Besides, he didn't want to force his friends to be his therapists for him, having to hear him rant again and again about his issues. Stan had enough on his own plate, as well as Eddie. He was already seeing Dr. Norton anyway, no need to burden his friends with his troubles…

Finally, Richie saw Stanley and his girlfriend on the porch. He waved at them, but they didn't respond. Richie raised an eyebrow, witnessing a curious scene. Stanley was closing and opening the front door, again and again, twisting the doorknob to the left, to the right, to the left, then to the right again. He did that four more times, Patty at his sides to rub his back and whisper words that Richie couldn't hear, until he managed to get away from the door. Patricia repeated his gesture, slowly, before closing the door quite loudly, as if to show without uncertainty that, yes, it was definitely closed.

As soon as they arrived at the car, Stanley felt the need to apologize, saluting his friends before mumbling with an embarrassed voice:

"Sorry. I needed to make sure the door was closed. Bad day."

Richie nodded, shrugging to show that he didn't care. He knew what "bad day" meant. "Bad day" meant that he couldn't keep his obsessive thoughts in check, and Richie suspected that his father might have acted like an asshole to his son once again. As if Stanley needed that right now…

Stanley gave a reassuring smile to Eddie when he looked at him and let out a concerned whine. Patricia added, after exchanging a look with her boyfriend:

"We're handling it. You don't have to worry, Eddie."

She gently took Stan's hand in hers, using the other to rub his knee with a particular rhythm. It seemed to help Stanley to relax slightly. Richie felt reassured, being able to witness this scene. Patty understood his issues, or she tried her best to do so anyway. She didn't dismiss them outrightly, but she wasn't blowing this out of proportion either. Richie had the feeling that Patty could help Stan through his episodes in a way he was never able to.

Richie was often "too much" for Stan, and his friend had to keep him away to calm down or to rely on someone else from the Losers club. Even though he wanted to be there for his friend at all times, Richie had to learn that it would help him more to stay out of it from times to times. But he also needed to learn when he should actually be there, when he should call Stan, when he should be this friend he could rely on...

"I'm really sorry, guys."

Stanley was looking outside, towards the door. Richie could guess that he was itching to go back there, to check the door once again. Richie had never quite understood how his thoughts worked, but Stanley told him that, in his mind, his rituals helped him prevent some awful stuff somehow. That tying his shoes in a certain way would ensure that his mother wouldn't get hurt or that turning the faucet on and off ten times before starting to wash his dishes would ensure that the house wouldn't get caught in a fire, for example. And no, he couldn't explain  _ why.  _

Richie had quickly stopped to ask that particular question, since it obviously seemed to piss off Stanley. All he could do was try to be a supportive friend, as much as possible:

"With how strongly Patty slammed the door, I'm pretty sure it's closed now. You didn't tell me you scored She-Hulk, dude! No offense, Pat!"

"None taken, Richie!"

She laughed, and Stan smiled weakly, forcing himself to look elsewhere. Richie decided that it would be better to just drive off and did so, focusing mostly on the road. Mike had taken an interest in Patty and was talking with her about various books, notably children's literature, a subject she seemed particularly passionate about. 

Eddie had tried to interact with Stan for a while, but sitting in front of him and having his seatbelt fastened made the whole process a bit tedious, especially since he needed to contort himself to show his slate to Stanley. After a while, he had to give up, doodling mindlessly on his slate, giving Richie a smile here and there. 

Richie checked up on Stan in his rear-view mirror, but he seemed to be doing okay. He was leaning gently on Patty's shoulder, letting out a quip here and there in the animated discussion she was having with Mike, but mostly content to just listen to her. 

Richie forced himself to focus back on the road, which was probably the best thing to do if he didn't want to cause a car crash. He knew how easily he could become overbearing, and he was doing everything he could not to. Stan needed his friend, not Richie acting like some kind of mother hen towards him. 

When they arrived at Bangor, Richie was relieved to stretch his gangly limbs, letting out a happy sigh. Eddie wanted to buy a gift for Richie's parents, which was the first thing they did. Stan had to drag away Richie at some point, who was all too tempted to buy an obnoxious shirt featuring the character of red-headed Pippi Longstocking, dying to offer it to Beverly for Christmas… Well, their Christmhanukkah.

"What? She's going to love it!"

"No presents, Richie, we made that clear. Besides, she's studying to be a fashion designer, she's going to burn that thing if she ever has to lay her eyes on it."

Richie pouted exaggeratedly, going back to Eddie to help him make a choice. Mike and Patty were there as well, suggested things here and there, but mostly allowing Eddie to finally be able to make his own decisions. He finally settled on a pair of assorted mugs, interlocking, and featuring loving illustrations, something that Patty claimed was the "cutest thing she's seen in a while". Eddie had looked up to Richie for some reassurance and Richie had granted him that, ruffling his hair:

"Don't worry, they'll love your gift. Honestly, you could offer them a macaroni necklace, and they'll still be happy as heck because it's coming from you."

A macaroni necklace… Wait! Richie started to grin wickedly, causing Eddie to raise his eyebrow at the sight:

"I totally have to offer you a spaghetti necklace. That way, everyone will know that you're my Eddie Spaghetti, the one and only!"

Eddie audibly groaned and facepalmed, while Mike was laughing and nudging Richie softly:

"Stop annoying my assistant so much, Richie."

"He was my Eddie Spaghetti before being your assistant, you nerd!"

Richie grinned even more, hugging Eddie tightly, which caused him to groan even more and try to get away from his grasp. Slowly, but surely, Richie was becoming more at ease with the idea of being physically close with Eddie in a public setting. He still had his doubts here and there, but it was nowhere near what it used to be. Not that he would dare to act like that back in Derry, though…

Once they finished their shopping, they headed out to the tea house Eddie, Mike and Richie were growing accustomed to. Richie knew that Eddie felt better in places he was used to, but he also liked it here and thought it would suit Stanley as well. The quiet ambiance, the delicate smell of tea, and the fact that it wasn't overcrowded like other establishments… It was just perfect for them.

Eddie beamed up when the waiter remembered his usual order, pulling on Richie's sleeve happily. There was something adorable about it, but also terribly sad. Eddie was always so amazed whenever people remembered him (and not in an "I saw you on TV" kind of way) and what he liked, as if he couldn't believe that he earned it. Richie was decided to make him aware of the fact that he definitely deserved the world and even more than that. 

Stanley seemed to struggle to make a choice in the menu, whispering things to Patty, who answered him back patiently, never losing the soft smile on her lips. Richie did his best not to intrude and let them deal with it in the way they were accustomed to. Some part of him really wanted to intervene, to order something for Stanley that Richie knew he would love, but he knew better than to listen to his overbearing tendencies. Instead, he focused on Eddie, asking him various questions about his new job that Eddie was more than happy to answer, Mike adding some details to complete his thoughts. 

Richie was glad that Eddie was able to work with Mike. Even if it was just a single day per week for now, it still allowed him to get away from home, to prove to himself that he could do something without having to rely on Richie or his parents. 

As much as the thought hurt Richie initially, he was now appreciating what it meant: that Eddie was becoming more and more independent and that his self-esteem was getting better as well. Besides, it allowed him to have some time for himself as well, something Richie didn't realize at first that he really needed. Getting to spend time with Liz or at the LGBT center was a true relief, allowing him to be who he was without actively hiding a whole part of himself. 

Even though he couldn't be frank about this part of his life with most of his friends, Richie was more than happy to spend time with them. And who knows? Maybe he'll be ready at some point in his life, prepared to tell them what he kept as a secret all of these years… Not that he wasn't scared about their reaction. Heck, even though Stanley wasn't extreme as his father, he was still very religious, and Richie was anxious that he might hold some prejudiced thoughts. And what about Patty? She seemed sweet and all, but Richie didn't know her at all…

Richie was pulled out of his thoughts when Eddie gently nudged him, pointing at the waiter trying to get Richie's attention to write down his order. Richie cleared his throat and ordered the most sugary options on the menu, which granted him a skeptic look from Eddie. He answered with a broad smile:

"What?"

Eddie quickly wrote on his slate, shoving it to his face:

_ Unhealthy. Need to take care of yourself and your body. Too much sugar. _

Richie pushed down the slate, grinning even more:

"I'm constantly burning calories and sugar, Eds, I should order another one of these, it's not nearly enough!"

Eddie retorted by flicking him on the forehead, and they started to bicker, Eddie writing quickly on his slate, using a few ASL signs that he managed to learn or expressively grunting and whining to let Richie know what he was feeling. They kept at it for a while, until Mike calmed them down, something Richie hadn't been quite able to do, too happy to get to tease his friend again, just like before. 

But Eddie was getting worked up, and a break in their bantering was more than welcome at this point. Putting his fingers between his lips, Eddie sucked on them, using his other hand to draw on his slate. Patty tried to involve him in their discussion, but Richie discreetly stopped her, trying to get her to understand that Eddie needed to be left to his own devices for a moment. 

Eddie wasn't used to interacting with so many people at the same time, and he had spent quite a lot of his energy in their banter. He would talk to them whenever he felt ready to do so, Richie knew it. Thankfully, Patty seemed to understand and reported her attention to Mike, who was more than happy to talk about his library to them:

"I was hoping I could organize an event around Christmas. I picked up some nice books, and I'm training myself to read them out loud. If I could get a few children to come and listen to me, they might come back later at some point. I could make it a recurring thing as well."

"I could be your training audience, if you wish to," Patricia offered immediately, adjusting her glasses. "Part of my studies involves learning to read properly out loud, I could give you some advice as well."

"That would be awesome!" 

Mike beamed up at her words, but he promptly added, while awkwardly laughing: 

"But you don't have to, you know? You should spend more time with Stanley and his family."

"I'm pretty sure I could convince Stanley to come too, if you're comfortable with a wider audience. Wouldn't you like that, ahuvì?"

She caressed his cheek tenderly, a gesture that Richie was dying to reproduce with Eddie right now. He stopped himself, knowing that Eddie was overwhelmed at the moment and might not react well to sudden physical contact. But, dear lord, he really wanted to touch him that way… A soft touch full of love…

Stanley took her hand, gently kissing her fingers. Richie smiled at the sight. Stan the man, smoother than ever!

"Of course, Patty. I'd follow you everywhere."

Realizing what he just told out loud, Stanley blushed and corrected himself, stammering slightly on his words:

"Uh… I mean, if… if it might help you, M-Mike. Always glad to help you."

Mike chuckled lightly, but didn't tease him further, only telling Stan that he would be more than happy to read to him as well. Richie was the one who decided to annoy Stanley, poking his cheek with his index finger:

"Look at you, Stan the Man, lovestruck and all! Trust me, Patty, the last time I saw him make this kind of hearty eyes, it was because he just saw a very beautiful pigeon in his binoculars. I thought he was going to come on the spot!"

Stanley, who started to drink his tea, spilled its content at Richie's crude words, giving him a nasty look. Patty was laughing, not even trying to hide it, while Mike was biting on his lips to contain it, doing his best not to embarrass Stanley even more. Eddie raised his head, unaware of what happened, but seemingly decided that it didn't concern him and went back to his drawing, his eyelids fluttering progressively more and more.

Wiping his face, Stanley stared at Richie with an angry gaze:

"You're disgusting, Richie. And it wasn't a pigeon, it was an authentic  _ Pipilo crissalis eremophilus. _ They're not even supposed to live where we are!"

"So you do not deny that you got a big woodie over a pigeon, Stan the Man?"

"Beep Beep, Richie," Mike interjected, causing Richie to shut up immediately before he went too far.

Patty caressed Stanley's hand, who seemed too ashamed to look at her directly in the eyes:

"Don't listen to him, I love how passionate you are, Stan. And getting to do some bird-watching with you..."

Richie was about to ask if it was a derogatory term for something else, but Mike looked at him pointedly, and Richie understood the message. Okay, not talking. He didn't always know when he was too much. He just wanted to take Stanley's mind off the things that were bothering him, whatever it was, and he didn't really know how to do that, besides teasing him mercilessly, just like they used to. 

Patricia and Stan shared a kiss, and Richie couldn't stop himself from feeling some tinge of jealousy, looking at them. They didn't have to think about it twice before doing so. No one would bat an eye at their public display of affection. Stanley didn't have to worry about being beaten up after kissing his girlfriend. He could just do it, free of consequences.

Richie felt a weight on his shoulder and looked away, noticing that Eddie had started to lean on him. He caressed his hair softly, smiling affectionately at him. If only Richie could just kiss him right there, right now, and not have to worry about anything. Of course, he would have to make his feelings known to Eddie first, but Richie was pretty sure that he wouldn't have so much troubles if the way he was loving wasn't so stigmatized. Right now, it was just... hard. But he promised himself that he would confess and he was going to do so. Very soon. Just... not now.

Once they finished their drinks and pastries, they headed out to a nearby park, walking for a while before sitting on a bench, after making sure that it wasn't too wet from the snow still falling on them. Managing to be more focused, Eddie took part in their conversation, writing on his slate, letting audibly know how he was feeling about what they were discussing.

Stanley was more than happy to interact with him, and Richie suspected that he might still feel guilty over his previous outburst. Eddie didn't deserve it, but Richie wouldn't pretend that he couldn't understand what Stanley might have been feeling. 

He knew more than enough how suffocating it was to try to keep a secret as massive as this one and how scary it was as well to think that they might reveal too much or lose someone over choosing to talk about it. 

If he had been in Stanley's shoes, Richie might have lashed out as well, out of anxiety. He kinda did that already, to be honest. He didn't forget how hurt Eddie had been when he refused to hold his hand in public, because he was scared of other people's potential reaction...

Eddie probably immediately forgave Stanley, that was something he would do. Or he just thought that he must have done something wrong, and he immediately started to feel guilty over it. Unfortunately, it was probably the most plausible scenario. But the point was that Eddie would never hold a grudge against Stanley over that. He was so happy to get to talk to him once again, after all this time...

Slowly, but surely, Eddie's words started to get less understandable, more confused. He let out a long yawn and rested his head on Richie's shoulder, closing his eyes. It wasn't long before he started to snore, something that made Richie chuckle. He adjusted Eddie's position, thinking about offering them to go back to his car, when Stanley got up from the bench, facing Richie:

"Can we talk? Just us."

Richie raised an eyebrow, surprised. He looked at Eddie for a second, then at Mike, who assured him with a smile:

"Don't worry, I'll let him borrow my knees for his nap. Besides, Patty and I have a lot to talk about."

"It's true, it's been so long since I got to talk about my favorite children's books to someone who actually knows them!"

Patty's enthusiasm was awfully cute. The more he knew her, the more Richie understood why Stanley loved her so much. Slowly, he got Eddie to leave his previous position and to rest his head on Mike's lap, managing to do so without waking him up. His heart was beating a bit too fast when he followed Stan, walking beside him and choosing to stay silent for once, giving him the time to collect his thoughts and talk about what he needed to share with him.

At first, they didn't exchange a word, which made Richie feel even more nervous over the whole thing. It was apparent that something was upsetting Stanley, but Richie didn't know what it was all about. For a second, he thought that his friend might be aware of his homosexuality and was angry over it, but he chased this thought quickly, too nervewracking to think about. No, he wasn't going to talk about that... right?

They stopped next to a land post, Stanley tapping compulsively on the metallic pole, once, twice, thrice, and even more. Richie let him do so for a while, hesitating on what he was supposed to do, when Stanley finally said, focused on what he was doing:

"My father yelled at me. I merely suggested that it might be a good thing if I studied a different field than accounting. He would have lashed out at me even more if Patty hadn't been there."

Stanley let out a long sigh. Unsure of what he should be doing, Richie got closer, putting a hesitant hand on Stan's shoulder. His friend jumped a little at the touch, but relaxed slightly after a moment.

"I was so nervous that I didn't manage to read the verse I was supposed to read out loud at yesterday's service. Then I made things even worse by running away. I... uh... I had to check something. I had to, you know?"

Richie nodded, biting on his bottom lip. Stanley seemed to have relapsed pretty severely. He didn't remember his OCD being so invasive the last time they saw each other. But on the other hand, Richie hadn't been quite attentive either... Maybe it was already starting to worsen at this point.

"When we went back home, he told me that he never had been more embarrassed in his life and that he was deeply ashamed of me. He also told Patty that he... hmm... that he would understand if she wanted to go back to her family, because she definitely deserved better than a broken, stupid child as a partner."

Stanley's voice broke at the end of his sentence, and Richie felt something close to fury invading his heart and mind. If he had been there, he would have probably thrown himself at Mr. Uris, ready for a fistfight. But he wasn't present at the moment. He could only be there right now, for his friend who was fighting back the tears as much as possible.

"You know it's not true, Stanley, right? You know that?"

Stanley shrugged as an answer. Richie was about to launch himself into a rant detailing every single one of Stanley's qualities when his friend started to talk:

"I mean, he's right. I'm broken. I almost threw my life away over stupid reasons. And Patty is exhausting herself, taking care of me, when she should be with someone who can treat her like she deserves to..."

Stanley was interrupted when Richie walked in front of him, flicking him on the forehead:

"Ow! What the fuck, Richie?"

"You can't keep believing him, Stanley. Your father might want what he thinks is best for you, but he's an asshole."

"He's not..."

"He is, shut up. I don't know why you tried to kill yourself, and I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry I wasn't there at the time to help you and listen to you..."

Richie indeed was sorry. He would go back in time if he could, just to call Stanley, at least once. To tell him how much he cared about his friend and that he was there for him. If Stanley really died, he... Richie didn't know what he would have done. He couldn't imagine it. It was hurting too much, just to think about it. Taking a deep breath, Richie put his hand on Stanley's shoulder once again, squeezing it tightly:

"But I'm here now, and I'm telling you that you're not broken and that you're worth more than five, ten, a hundred, millions of Donald Uris. And Patty knows that. You gotta trust her more to know what's good for herself, dude. She chose you, and she loves you dearly, it's freaking obvious. Heck, I bet Bill could write a romance novel about you two, it could be titled "When Jewish upon a star", I would read the shit out of it!"

Stanley laughed at Richie's antics, which was precisely what he was hoping to happen:

"Shut up, Richie. Your title is nonsensical. Besides, Bill wants to write horror novels, not romance."

"Doesn't matter. What I mean is that your father is wrong about you. And if he can't understand that, then you don't need him in your life."

Stanley nodded, but he seemed hesitant. Richie knew how much he was attached to his family, to his mother, and even to his father, no matter how he treated him. He wasn't sure Stan would ever be able to completely stand up to him or to step away from his folks...

"You know, Patty defended me. She stayed polite and sweet, but she took my defense. My father didn't have anything to retort, he's not used to people opposing his authority. And so gently as well. Mother never said anything when my father was there. She always waited for him to be gone to comfort me. But Patty, she..."

Stanley didn't finish his sentence, but his smile was telling more than a thousand words. Richie was really, really happy that Patricia Blum was now a part of his friend's life. They were forming a wonderful couple, and Richie could only hope that he would get to be loved by someone as much as Patty loved Stan, and Stan loved Patty back. Eddie, maybe? It seemed foolish to hope, but... but...

Richie took a deep breath, opening his arms:

"Come here for a hug, dude. I think you need one. Seek refuge in my manly arms!"

"Shut up, Richie."

But Stanley accepted his offer, and Richie was soon closing his arms around his friend, hugging him with an affection that he couldn't quite quantify, trying to make up for all the times he hadn't been there for him. He would never neglect him like that again. Stanley or any of his friends. It was a promise. No matter what happened. 

When Stanley took a step back, he offered a faint smile to Richie, who widely grinned back as an answer. Rubbing his neck, Stan enunciated shyly:

"Thanks, I needed it. I... uh... I'm sorry I've been too harsh with you. I know things haven't been easy for you either these last few years, with Eddie's disappearance and return, and..."

Richie put his finger on Stan's lips, hoping to shut him up. Stanley swatted his hand away, muttering a "Fuck off, Richie" as an answer.

"Fuck you too, Stanley. Anyway, stop apologizing. You were upset, and you had every right to be. I will call more often, and I'll try to come to see you all here and there, when Eddie'll be ready for traveling too. He would be so angry at me if I came to see you and left him behind..."

"As if it would ever happen. You two are basically attached to the hip. You were always like that since you both met."

Richie laughed awkwardly. Stanley wasn't wrong, but he didn't want him to connect two and two together and realized why Richie was so attached to Eddie. Not now. It wasn't the time. He couldn't handle it if Stanley rejected him, right after they managed to go back to being friends, trusting each other, relying on one another...

"Come on, we should get back to the others. Besides, if we don't hurry, Mike will steal your girlfriend with his smooth librarian shtick. Beware, Stanley!"

Stan flipped him the bird as an answer, but he followed him nonetheless. Eddie had woken up from his quick nap when they came back, but it was clear that he was still half-asleep, whining and holding his arms out to get a hug from Richie. Richie was more than happy to comply, chasing away his embarrassment and anxiety by teasing Eddie a bit. Not that Eddie reacted, he was too out of it for now to go back to their usual banter. 

They stayed in the park a bit more, until they collectively decided to go home. Eddie went back to sleep in the car, snoring and mumbling softly, while Mike, Patty, and Stan were discussing vividly, arguing about who read the best children's books when they were younger. Richie inserted himself in the discussion to mention some comic books, but he mostly stayed out of it, content to just listen to his friends babbling happily, away from their set of issues for a while. 

More than that, Richie was happy to see Stan smile and interact, delighted to know that his friend was loved dearly, by Patty of course, but also by all of them. Richie loved him. His friend. His best friend. His brother. From now on, Richie would do whatever it takes to be there for him... For every member of the Losers Club. Because they deserved it. Because they were his family. Because he loved them all so, so much...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was so fun to get to write Stanley once again and have them all hang out! I can't wait to be able to do that with every Loser, probably in the next chapter or so. Patty is a delight to write as well, I just really love her character.
> 
> I'm glad I got to write Richie and Stanley's relationship more, I hadn't had the time to focus on it until then. I hope that my portrayal of OCD doesn't feel off, I really want to portray it faithfully, since I know how important it is to have accurate representation. 
> 
> Don't hesitate to leave a comment and/or kudos. Thank you again for your support, you really made my quarantine a whole lot easier to live!
> 
> For now, I can still answer you quite rapidly, but when I'll get back to work, I might have to wait until the end of the day or so to get to answer to you. I'll try to do it nonetheless. 
> 
> Thank you so much, have a nice day!


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! I'm so happy I was able to write this chapter after my workday. I was so frustrated to not be able to write it down in the morning or in the afternoon as I used to, but I managed to write it nonetheless and it really helped me relax. The day was a bit long and I was near experiencing a shutdown when I left, but it was still better than what I expected. Waiting to see if I can keep up my schedule for now!
> 
> Thank you all for your support and your kind words, they really helped me to go through my day!
> 
> Here are the TW for this chapter:
> 
> TW for self-harm  
> TW for mention of recreational use of drug  
> TW for mention of abuse
> 
> I think that's all, don't hesitate to tell me if you're noticing something else! Good reading!

Eddie had always loved December and the snow, but until now, he never cared much for Christmas, aside from the cheesy movies he got to watch on TV here and there. Christmas was… lonely. It reminded him that he didn't have any good memories with his father at that time. Maybe Frank would have dressed up as Santa Claus for his son to see his eyes shine at the sight? Or he would have told him many, many stories, every night before Christmas, just so that Eddie would wait as patiently as possible for the joyful day to come.

But Sonia Kaspbrak didn't care much for Christmas. She never let him believe in Santa Claus, although she agreed to offer him a present, as if it was all of this holiday was about. Eddie would have exchanged every gift he ever received just to get to spend Christmas with a mother who truly loved him. He envied his classmates, the kids he could see on TV. Christmas seemed to be such a warm day, looking at them all.

Most of them were boasting about their presents, but all Eddie could think about was that they got to spend this time with their family, around a good meal, an occasion to talk and share. For Eddie, Christmas was only a day where his mom reminded him of how fragile he was. He couldn't eat a festive meal because he might trigger his allergies. He couldn't go out because it was too cold and he would get sick. He just had to stay with his mother, that should have been more than enough! Why are you so ungrateful, Eddie Bear? Mommy is so disappointed…

Eddie came back to his senses and shook his head, trying to get a grip on reality. He was working right now, in the library. Trying to cover a book. He grimaced when he noticed the bubbles that were already forming on the plastic cover, doing his best to do some damage control. Eddie couldn't be distracted when he was working, especially when he had to complete manual tasks. He had to focus.

It was just… hard. The Losers were all supposed to arrive today, after all this time. It was pretty hard to determine precisely when, the weather had been a bit agitated, and their planes and all had been delayed. Eddie could only imagine the worst, when he wasn't thinking back to how his Christmases used to be miserable.

Even if everything went just fine, Eddie would still have a lot to worry about. He hadn't seen them for so long. Things had been a bit awkward with Stanley, but they managed to slide back into their old dynamic, helped by Richie, Mike, and Patty. Eddie knew that, logically, it should be encouraging, but it wasn't.

After all, he managed to piss off Stanley by asking too many questions, and they barely got to see each other again at this point. Who's to say he wasn't going to do the same with the Losers or even worse? Eddie didn't want to hurt any of them. They didn't deserve it.

The last time they saw each other, Eddie was storming off and screaming at them, so many years ago. He wanted to say goodbye properly, but his mom had drugged him, and he was drifting off to sleep before he even got to see them again. Eddie just realized how cruel she had been right at this moment. She could have waited for a little while, she could have let him see his friends, even for a minute, but no. She wanted to take that away from him. Make him feel lonely and hopeless. And he did, for so long.

But Eddie was stronger than that. He was working on himself and was decided to be happy, no matter what. It was his revenge on his mother, on his life, on the destiny who took him his father so early in this life, as if to hurt him personally. Being happy. Feeling good in his own skin. Getting to be whoever he wanted to be. To what he wanted to do.

And right now, Eddie wanted to enjoy this month with his friends, to celebrate Christmas with the people he cared about. The Losers Club. His family. And Richie. Eddie really, really wanted to savor these precious times with him. Something he was never able to, until now…

Eddie jumped and let out a yelp when he suddenly felt arms engulfing him tightly. He only relaxed when he realized that it was Richie, letting himself enjoy the feeling before he wondered why his friend was here right now. Richie didn't want to bother him at work, allowing him to learn to be more at ease with those all new things he had to do and be taught about. But his friend was here, hugging him, and Eddie wasn't so motivated to work anymore. But he had responsibilities and he couldn't just…

"Hey, Eds. Don't freak out, but they're here. They're waiting outside."

Eddie had needed a few seconds to understand what Richie just said. He froze at his words, not knowing how to process the sudden rush of feelings invading his mind. Eddie thought they wouldn't be here for a few more hours or even until the day after… But they were here. They were all here. Just like before.

Eddie didn't realize right away that his breathing was getting ragged. When Richie faced him, caressing his cheek, trying to get him to calm down, Eddie noticed how worked up he suddenly was. He did his best to relax and follow Richie's breathing pattern, but it wasn't easy. Eddie hugged his friend tightly, trying to put some order in his thoughts. He knew that he should be nothing short of enthusiastic, knowing that he was going to see them again, hug them, and talk to them.

But Eddie was troubled. Confused by his memories, the weight of his past lingering heavily on his shoulders. He was happy, sure, but he was also scared. Scared that something would prevent him from seeing them once again, even if he didn't know how it would happen. That it was nothing more than a dream. Or that they would just force themselves to tolerate his presence, for Richie's sake. Eddie didn't know, he was just anxious. Stressed out.

"Come on, breathe with me, Eddie. It's fine, it's okay. They're not going to enter until I signal them to do so. Take the time you need to relax. It's okay."

Richie's voice and touch were so gentle. Eddie melted in his arms, a soft sigh coming out of his lips. He managed to find some inner peace, even though he was still agitated and struggling slightly to breathe. When Richie asked him if he was ready, Eddie nodded silently, unable to communicate in another way. His hands were shaking, his mind still spiraling. He was scared… But he was ready.

And then they arrived. All four of them, led by Mike. Right when he saw them, Eddie felt something extremely warm awakening in his guts, in his heart. His mouth went agape, while his brain was trying to catch up with the rest of his body. First, he heard their voices, the slight stutter of Bill, the choked out "Eddie" coming from Ben, Beverly's gasp. Then he took in their appearances, how much they changed and yet stayed the same. They were all adults now, having progressively lost their most childish traits. But for a second, Eddie felt like they were back to this time when they were nothing more than teenagers, reunited by what made them different, marginalized.

Stan was there too, of course, as if he could miss their reunion. That moment where, finally, they were all back together, as if nothing split them off in the first place. A whine made his way out of Eddie's throat, and that was all he needed to finally be able to move his legs, running towards them. 

They greeted him with open arms, in a collective hug tight and warm. When Richie joined them as well, they all collapsed, as if suddenly defeated by the weight of the feelings that they were experiencing. They were together. _ Together.  _ As if they were all missing pieces forming a puzzle, once assembled. __ Reunited, at last.

Eddie felt tears on his cheeks, but he wasn't the only one crying. They were all handling the situation as well as he was, crying, sobbing, trying to control their shuddering breath. It was… It was so much. Eddie had thought he would never get to see them again. Or that they might not want to see him. But right now, at this instant, he knew. He knew how tight their bond was. He knew that nothing would ever manage to separate them forever. No matter what.

Richie, as usual, cracked a joke, trying to get them to laugh:

"Come on, guys, what's up with all of this crying? Are we at a funeral or what?"

Beverly chuckled, wiping her face, keeping Eddie close to her for an instant, before letting him go. Ben did the same after a moment, holding her hand tenderly. 

"You're one to talk, Richie! I bet you can't even see a thing behind your foggy glasses. Don't try to play the macho man, you're crying just like the rest of us."

"It's true, you… you wuh-were sobb… sobbi… sobbing the loudest, compuh-puh-pared to us all."

Bill let out a soft laugh, helping Eddie on his feet, hugging him tightly afterward:

"I'm so guh… guh… guh-glad to see you again. Without you, it… it wasn't the s-same."

Eddie immediately answered to his hug, fighting his tears, unable to stop himself from whining and humming. He felt good in Bill's arms. Safe. Protected. He didn't forget how much he admired him, but right now, Eddie was able to step back into the teenager he used to be, looking up to the leader of their group, to Bill freaking Denbrough. It wasn't quite like being in Richie's arms, but Eddie liked it too. As if he was hugged by the brother he forgot he had….

"Don't monopolize him, Bill! We missed him too!"

Bev was the second one to get to hug him. She smelled good, a soft perfume that Eddie's sensitive nose appreciated. Her red hair was still cut short, her eyes shining with love. Eddie wanted nothing more than to lose his fingers in her beautiful curls, thinking about how heavenly it would be. Ben was quick to join them, as if he couldn't stay away from Bev for too long. Eddie chuckled at the thought, thinking about how cute it was. Visibly, Ben had managed to confess his feelings, and Bev had been more than willing to accept them, judging by the way she was unconsciously looking for his touch, despite focusing on Eddie.

"So good to see you, bud. Smiling and all. I… I thought we lost you. But Richie never gave up on you."

Eddie felt his cheeks warm up at the thought. He tried to look at Richie, but his friend was avoiding his gaze, fiddling nervously with his glasses. 

"And now, we get to spend Christmas together. As a big family."

Ben's smile was so endearing, illuminating his round face. His voice was gentle as well, showcasing the kindness that his heart held for the rest of the world to get to enjoy. His soft demeanor was perfect for calming Beverly's intense fire, and she knew exactly how to get him to come out of his shell. In other words, they were just the right one for the other, just like Stan and Patty were for one another. Eddie could only hope that he would get to know something like that, at some point in the future. 

Mike prepared them some tea and coffee, and they all sat around a table, coming down from the fuzz that trapped them briefly, after this sudden rush of intense feelings. Eddie was engraving the scene in his memory, swearing that he would never forget this moment. This time where everything was just perfect, right where it was supposed to be. 

Overcome with giddiness, Eddie found himself giggling, leaning his head on Richie's shoulder. His friend caressed his hair, in this way that always made Eddie's legs feel weak and his head lighter as well. 

"I can't believe we're finally all here. Truly a miracle of Christmas!" Ben claimed happily, his fingers interlaced with Beverly's.

"Yeah, as if Santa Claus or your baby Jesus had anything to do with that. If anything, it's the magic of Hanukkah," Stan sarcastically supplied, a smile on his lips. "Patty would agree with me."

"But your sweetheart is not there right now, so you're in the minority, Stan." Beverly grinned, poking Stanley's cheek, who swatted her hand away.

"I'm used to it. You guys are the worst."

Richie laughed at his words and the way he rolled his eyes. Typical Stan. It was amazing how easily they were all slipping back into their respective roles. As if those five years apart meant nothing. But of course, they meant everything. They all had been hurt in some way by that brutal splitting. Their group hadn't been the same since then. Richie's pain had manifested quite outwardly, but they all suffered. Eddie had completed their club so well that, without him, it didn't mean much anymore. But he was back. They were all back.

Mike was mostly quiet, but it was clearly apparent how glad he was to be with them all. His eyes were filled with glee, and he couldn't stop smiling, drinking his tea slowly. He was the one who suggested, as if it was just obvious, the most logical next step:

"We need to take a trip down memory lane. All of us reunited. We shared so much together in such a short period. It's just… It seems right, you know?"

All of them agreed. Even Eddie, who was still scared to go out in Derry, afraid to cross Bowers' path. But he was decided to be brave and it… it was something they had to do. Something they needed to accomplish. The glue that was sticking them all together so perfectly. This terrible town in which they managed to survive, stick for the other, hold on, and love each other. 

"As a matter of fact, mushy Bill here has rented a minivan because, and I quote, he couldn't bear the idea of us having to be in different cars to go anywhere."

Bill went red at Richie's amused words, even more embarrassed when every one of his friends, Eddie included, let out an equally cheeky and tender "Aaaaw" in unison. 

"So we could all climb into that ol' thing and drive through Derry. Stop in the best spots, enjoy the good and not so good memories, you know the drill."

Richie rubbed Eddie's shoulder, smiling at him. Eddie smiled back, reassured by the idea that they wouldn't have to walk all around Derry. Even though he felt stronger, surrounded by his friends, he didn't want to risk them getting hurt. It was their moment, Bowers wouldn't take that away from them. Eddie hoped so, anyway. 

Mike closed the library, and they hopped in Bill's minivan. Eddie couldn't stop humming happily, flapping his hands, while the car started, their trip around Derry finally beginning. Eddie was glued to the window, while Richie was assuming the role of a tour guide, describing what they saw with one of his Voices:

"And here is Derry's famous awful school, known for its bullying and being the place where Baby Richie and Baby Bev smoked their first joint! Oooh and Baby Eddie too! D'you remember, Eds?"

Eddie hid his face in his hands at the memory, while Richie was retelling the story with a fond tone:

"You were as high as a kite, singing and babbling about the sweetest things. Definitely the cutest stoner in the entire world."

Eddie knew very well how the story ended. But he didn't mention it. They didn't need to recall all of the bad parts. It was their trip, their game, their rules. And they decided that it would definitely be happy. Free of sadness and darkness. So that's how it was going to be. No matter what. 

Not feeling the need to stop, they just passed by the school, leaving behind the not so pleasant memories they were keeping of this place. As if in sync, all of them decided to just shut up about it. To keep it hidden, away, covered by what made them stronger, these beautiful and funny moments they were able to share together.

Richie never stopped talking, mentioning a tree under which he used to sit by with Eddie, overjoyed to talk about the top of the hill where Stan used to spend so much time trying to watch his birds in peace while Richie was annoying him, getting soft and tender when he mentioned Bill's favorite spot to ride his bike. Eddie was dearly entertained, clapping and cooing happily, sharing a few words here and there. 

But, all of a sudden, they all went eerily quiet. The minivan was just passing by the Kaspbrak's house. Eddie's heart started to beat faster behind his ribs, and he began to get agitated. He wrote a few words on his slate, showing them to Richie and everyone else who could see it right now:

_ Need to go there.  _

Richie yelled at Bill to stop the car. The minivan came violently to a halt, the brakes screeching so noisily that Eddie couldn't help but clutch his hands over his ears, closing his eyelids and letting out a weak whine. Once he managed to calm down, Eddie opened his eyes, noticing that they were all looking at him with concern.

"Eds, you're sure? I mean… it's not… We can just drive off. We don't have to…"

Eddie shook his head. As soon as he saw the house, he  _ knew.  _ He just knew that he needed to face it. To face his memories, filled with his mother and the scared kid he used to be. He wasn't this Eddie anymore. Now was the time to confront the past. While they were all here, making him feel stronger than he ever was.

_ Need to do it. Need to say goodbye to the old Eddie. To get some closure. _

Eddie was shaking a bit when he stepped out of the car, looking at the house. His hand came looking for Richie's, and his friend assured him immediately, whispering softly:

"I'm here. We're all here. You're not alone anymore."

This house, his mother… It made Eddie feel so small. Trapped. Suffocating, He remembered spending hours looking out of his bedroom window, dreaming of freedom. Of being healthy, like most kids, to get to enjoy what was outside. To get out of this jail he thought he needed.

The house had been sold since they moved out, so they couldn't enter, but Eddie wouldn't want to do so anyway. He wasn't sure he would be able to leave if he stepped in the house again. He remembered how empty it seemed, devoid of warmness and love. He couldn't feel his father's presence there, no matter how hard he tried. He had been erased, sanitized, the place cleaned of what used to be, of what his mother could never quite face. Eddie wondered what kind of woman she would have been if Frank had been there… He doubted she would have ever been the loving, tender mother he was desperately looking for at the time, but maybe she would have been less overbearing. Perhaps Frank would have been able to keep her in check. To allow them to have some good time, as a family.

But it was merely an  _ if.  _ Eddie remembered the fear, the gripping terror, the frustration, the anger, the fury, the sadness, the despair. And he also remembered hope. Hope whenever Richie came, to bring him his homework, to keep him company. To help him out of his mother's strangling clutches. Richie and his mother went to this place and made it feel bearable. Less oppressive.

Eddie felt a hand squeezing his own and fingers on his shoulders. They were all there, by his sides, letting him have this moment, ready to intervene if he needed help, but trusting him to handle it. They had faith in him. All of them. They believed in him, in a way his mother never could.

Eddie took a deep breath. He looked again at the house, the grass he never got to play on, and smiled. A grin wide, so broad that it was almost hurting him. Then he did the only thing he could think of to express what he felt towards this house as clearly as possible: he flipped it off. He gave it the middle finger, and all of the other Losers did as well. Fuck this house. Fuck Sonia Kaspbrak. Fuck the past. He never needed her. This house was never his home. And he had one, now. Home, sweet home, with a family that loved him for who he was.

It was at this moment that the current owners noticed their weird behavior and started to come out. Beverly screamed to run away, and they all did, running off to the car, laughing and wheezing while Bill was turning on the engine, leaving it all behind. For a pair of minutes, they couldn't stop laughing, even if they didn't quite know why. As if something was suddenly lifted off their shoulders, a weight none of them couldn't really define, but that they all managed to leave behind them. Thanks to Eddie.

Richie contorted himself in his seat, managing to hug Eddie, whispering to his ear:

"You've been so brave. You've been so fucking brave, Eddie Spaghetti."

And Eddie believed him. He didn't try to protest. His mind didn't doubt Richie's words. No, Eddie trusted him, wholly. And he believed that he was brave. Fearless, even.

They visited a few more spots, until Bill stopped in front of a gate that Richie knew too often. The cemetery gate. How many times he had been there with Bill, crying over Georgie's grave? Supporting his friend who couldn't get over his grief, who couldn't forgive himself for something that wasn't even his fault…

"Can I… Can we… ?"

Bill didn't manage to finish his sentence, stammering and hesitating, but they all agreed. Bill laughed nervously, managing to articulate with a broken voice:

"I… uh… I know it's not fu-uh-uh-un, b-b-but I… I tho… I thou… Maybe we coul, coul, could say hi to Guh-Georgie."

"Of course, Bill," Mike said, putting his hand on Bill's shoulder. "It's been a while since we all visited him. Eddie never went there either. It's important. Georgie is a Loser too, just like the rest of us."

Eddie let out a whine, hoping that Bill would get the message and understand that he agreed as well. He wrote quickly on his slate to make sure of that:

_ Let's go. Wanna meet your little bro. _

Bill chuckled at Eddie's words, something that looked like a sob, and ruffled his hair:

"He wou… He would ha-a-a-ave l-loved you."

Eddie felt his heart melt at the idea. Even though he never really got to know Georgie or to meet Bill before his death, he knew how much he meant to his big brother. He could only hope that Georgie would have really liked him, as Bill said. All of them entered the cemetery, in respectful silence. Only when they arrived in front of Georgie's grave that they finally talked, Bill the first of them:

"H… Hi Guh-Georgie."

He knelt down in front of the tomb, caressing it with his thumb. It was clean and almost as good as new, even after all those years.

"We took care of him," Mike informed Bill, squeezing his shoulder. "He had many flowers and toys to play with. He still has."

Eddie noticed the small airplane toy on the grave, a sight that made Bill choke on his tears. Stan hugged him tightly, fighting back his own tears. Richie stayed on the sides, looking away, a guilty expression on his face. Ben was the one who took his hand and convinced him to join them.

"It's never too late, Richie."

At Ben's words, Eddie understood that Richie hadn't been as thorough in this as Mike had been, even though their friend told otherwise. And that he couldn't forgive himself for that, as well as many other things. Eddie squeezed his arm tightly for a short period, to show him his support, before joining Bill and Mike, tapping on Mike's shoulder to get his attention.

_ Need you to read my words aloud. _

Mike raised an eyebrow, while Eddie was intensely focusing on his writing. He then gave his slate to his friend, filled to the brim with the words he wanted to say, but that he couldn't articulate himself. Mike, soft Mike, kind-hearted Mike, who always did so much for them, never expecting anything in return… Eddie wanted his loving voice to enunciate his words, and Mike did, slowly, softly:

"Hello, Georgie. I'm Eddie Kaspbrak. Nice to meet you. If you're anything like your brother, then you must be the best kid of this entire planet. I wish I could have talked to you before all of this, get to know you. One day, though, we will all be together, reunited beyond this life, and we'll all play together forever and ever. I hope you'll be able to bear Richie's awful jokes eternally..."

Richie let out a "Hey!" exaggeratedly offended, and Bill laughed and cried at the same time, hugging himself tightly. Soon enough, Beverly was right behind him, her arms closing over him as a refuge. Eddie was mouthing the words along with Mike, even though he couldn't say them. His memory was good enough to allow him to perfectly retain his little speech, closing his eyes to imagine himself articulating the words that Mike was enunciating for him, squinting to read the tiny letters on the slate:

"I'll bring you a gift next time I'm coming. And I'll talk to you too, even when Mike or Richie won't be there to tell you my words. I hope that they'll reach you wherever you are. You're a good kid, Georgie. Have fun up there. Keep the place warm for us. One day, we're all going to join you. A big, happy family that nothing will ever be able to split up. It's a promise that I'm making to a friend, and you should know that I'm never breaking a promise. Love you, Georgie."

Mike's voice started to break on the last word, and he gave Eddie his slate back. Eddie walked near Bill, hesitating a little, unsure of what he had written. What if it was too much or he had been insensitive or…?

Eddie yelped and tensed when Bill got up and hug him, pulling him out of his spiraling thoughts. He managed to relax in the touch, while Bill was whispering "thank you" to his ear, again and again. Eddie didn't move, he just stayed there, letting Bill hug him as long as necessary. Even when it started to get too much, he didn't move, he didn't flinch. Eddie scratched his palm, focusing on this pain, trying to keep it under control. Richie was the one who noticed his behavior, softly tapping on Bill's shoulder:

"Come on, mushy Bill, I want my hug too!"

Bill chuckled at his words and hugged Richie as well. Eddie saw him whispering something to Richie's ear, but he couldn't hear his words. But he saw the sudden shift in Richie's expression, wide-eyed for a second, until he started to smile again, a genuine, big smile on his face.

For a while, they all stayed there, sitting right in front of Georgie's grave, telling him stories, talking about him. Bill revealed that he wanted to make him the hero of one of his books, the brave boy who would win in the end, against all evil. When Richie told him that it was the first good ending Bill ever came up with, Stan was the one who beep-beeped him, poking his ribs mercilessly as a punishment.

Eddie never quite believed in an afterlife or a god or anything like that, but right now, he could perfectly picture Georgie with them, laughing at Richie's antics, his hand holding tightly Bill's. When they left the cemetery, Bill's stutter got considerably better, even though it wasn't quite gone.

As soon as they went back to the car, Richie suggested one last stop, and all of them agreed. It was the perfect way to end this trip, to celebrate their reunion. To reconcile with the kids they used to be and everything they all went through.

Bill drove for a while, Eddie's heart filled with anticipation and excitement, but also a bit of fear. When they arrived at their destination, Eddie audibly gulped. They were standing at the edge of a cliff, right above the quarry where they used to swim, where he learned how to do so with his friends, with Richie. 

Beverly started to take off her clothes, only keeping her underwear. They all did the same, as they used to do when they were teenagers. No shame, no modesty. Just the innocence of the kids they used to be. She was the first to jump as well, always ready to face any danger and daring to do anything they thought she shouldn't be able to do.

Ben followed right after because, of course, he had to. He would have followed Beverly to the end of the world, heart filled with love for the one who was so dear to his poetic soul. Right after were Bill and Stan, Stan hesitating briefly at his last step before closing his eyes and jumping as well.

Richie and Eddie were the last ones. Eddie couldn't get himself to move, his mind filled to the brim with images of what could happen. They could get hurt. Richie could bang his head against a rock. Eddie might drown. They might experience thermal shock. They could…!

Richie cupped Eddie's face between his hands, a soft and encouraging smile on his lips.

"You're braver than you think, Eds."

And that was all he needed to hear. These words of encouragement, of reassurance, that got him through the worst things in his life. Eddie nodded, clutching Richie's hand in his. Richie took off his glasses, holding them in his free hand. On three, they jumped together.

Time seemed to stretch and bend, everything going too fast and too slow at the same time. When they hit the water, Eddie gasped for air as a reflex, the water entering his nose, his mouth. He started to panic, but Richie was there. Holding his hand, keeping his eyes on him, reminding him where they were and that they were okay. That everything was fine.

Eddie didn't know why he acted the way he did. Was it the adrenaline? How Richie was looking at him, as if he was the most beautiful thing in the world, even though his friend must have seen him as some kind of blob at this point? But Eddie's heart took over his mind, and, under the water, hidden from everyone else, Eddie captured Richie's lips in a kiss.

If everything was like in the novels and movies Eddie read and watched, they would have been able to kiss for so long, to bask in this moment they were living. But Eddie had just swallowed some water and started to cough painfully, trying reflexively to get some oxygen in his lungs. He was still coughing when they reached the surface, Richie keeping him close and making sure his head stayed over the water.

They were looking at each other, as if none of them was quite able to understand what just happened. Eddie… Eddie kissed Richie. And Richie kissed him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Okay I totally didn't expect to end the chapter like this. They weren't supposed to kiss here and Richie should have been the one to initiate, but it just felt "right", you know? Appropriate. I hope you liked it! Getting to write the Losers once again was a joy and I was really happy and sad at the same time to write this little scene with Georgie. Who knows, if I write more for the IT fandom in the future, I might keep him alive next time xD.
> 
> Thank you all for your support, once again! Don't hesitate to leave comments and/or kudos, I'm always happy to know what you thought (especially now. I mean... 54 chapters to get to this point, talk about a slow burn xD). Take care, y'all!


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! It's finally the week-end, what a relief! Going back to work has been tiring, I couldn't wait to get back home to write this chapter. I hope you'll like it! I don't know if I'll be able to keep up this update schedule for long, but I'll try c:. Thank you all for your support and your kind words. I loved all of your reactions to the previous chapter, it made it all truly worth it!
> 
> Before writing down the Trigger warnings for this chapter, I wanted to give a shout-out to an association named Autistic Self Advocacy Network (or ASAN). ASAN is a nonprofit organization run by autistic people for autistic people. Don't hesitate to check it out, you'll be able to find really interesting resources about autism if it's something that you're interested in! Here's the link: https://autisticadvocacy.org/
> 
> With that said, here are the Trigger Warnings for this chapter:
> 
> TW for mention of throwing up  
> TW for internalized homophobia  
> TW for mention of infantilization
> 
> Don't hesitate if you want me to tag something else! Good reading!

They really didn’t think through their whole “let’s jump from the cliff in our undies” shtick. They realized it as soon as they reached the shore, and Stan pointed out that they would have to go back there to get their clothes, discarded in the van. They all looked at each other with this gaze of disbelief and despair, as if to say, “We’re truly THAT stupid.” 

In the end, they managed to find a phone booth not too far and to call Richie’s parents to the rescue. Warning his mother and asking her to come to get them, that was basically the only time Richie spoke out loud, still in a daze after what happened underwater. 

It had been so sudden, so fast, that he wondered if it was even real. But it was. It couldn’t have been a dream. Richie felt everything: the water burning his lungs, Eddie’s agitation making waves and then his lips on his, soft, tender, shy, clumsy. Richie couldn’t stop picking at his mouth, poking it with his fingers as if he were trying to feel what was lingering of Eddie.

What just happened? What the fuck just happened? Richie’s thoughts were a garbled mess that he couldn’t make sense of. His heart was beating too fast, but his brain was sluggish, trapped by the pictures flooding his mind, making him relive this short moment again and again. A kiss. A kiss on his lips. Richie had just been kissed. By Eddie Kaspbrak. His friend. His best friend. His… he didn’t really know how to call him right now, to be honest. Richie was lost. Lost and confused.

All the while, Eddie had been lulled to sleep, his head resting on Richie’s shoulder, a soft snore coming out of his throat. Nothing was surprising about that, after this emotional trip that they all made and, on top of all, this impulse that pushed him to kiss Richie. When he wasn’t processing violently the constant waves of feelings and emotions that he was experiencing, Eddie was being defeated by exhaustion, almost falling asleep on the spot. Especially when Richie was there by his sides, allowing him to rest on his shoulder or legs…

Richie was itching to wake him up, to be assured that what he just lived wasn’t just a dream, but even if he was willing to disturb Eddie’s peaceful sleep, and he wasn’t, Richie couldn’t just ask him that in front of everyone else. They hadn’t seen what happened. They didn’t know about him. They didn’t know about _them._

That was a strange thought to have. Them. His secret was now their secret. But was it really that? Richie couldn’t stop his mind from spiraling, thinking again and again about the event, starting to morph what just happened. Did Eddie really kiss him? Was it really what happened? Maybe he didn’t mean it, perhaps he only… 

No, no, Eddie was touching his face, looking right at him, before he kissed him. It wasn’t an accident. It was something he purposely did. Eddie _kissed_ him. Eddie Kaspbrak fucking kissed him. Richie’s breath got caught in his throat. Even after that, he didn’t dare to hope. To think that he might have earned what he dreamed the most about: Eddie’s romantic love. It just seemed… too much.

Richie pinched his arm and grimaced. He didn’t really know why it was supposed to make him sure that he was perfectly awoken and that it wasn’t a fantasy. He was still as unsure as he was before about the whole thing. About Eddie. About their kiss. About _them._ It… It was…

“Richie?”

He jumped, hearing Beverly’s voice. She was leaning towards him, looking at him with a worried gaze. She was shivering, because of course, it had to be fucking December, and they just decided to take a dip, no big deal. If they didn’t get sick after that, it would indeed be a Christmas miracle…

“Are you okay, Richie?”

Richie nodded, forcing a smile. He put his index finger on his lips, answering softly:

“Don’t want to wake up Eddie Spaghetti, y’know?”

As if on cue, Eddie started to mumble and whine in his sleep, slipping from his previous posture. Richie adjusted his position, hugging him close to his chest to keep him warm. Could Eddie hear in his slumber how loudly Richie’s heart was currently beating? He hoped that it was a reassuring sound for him. Something that made him feel happy.

Richie wanted to feel Eddie’s lips against his once again without the water invading his mouth, lungs, and tastebuds. Would it be even sweeter? Warmer? Richie didn’t know if he wanted to giggle mindlessly or to cry. Both, probably. But right now, he had to keep it together. Make sure that none of the Losers would suspect a single thing. He wasn’t ready for that. What would he even tell them? He wasn’t even entirely sure of what happened. He needed to talk to Eddie. He really needed to speak with him…

When Maggie arrived, she had brought warm blankets to cover themselves with, shivering awfully, their teeth chattering audibly. She was trying to fight back a laugh, but clearly failed to do so, smiling and letting out a chuckle here and there. Her car was not big enough to allow them all to hop in, so Beverly, Ben, Mike, and Stan stayed behind, while Bill was climbing in the car so that he could drive the minivan back to their friends. Richie and Eddie were installed at the back of the car, Richie fastening Eddie’s seatbelt and making sure that he was in a comfortable position. 

Richie waved goodbye to his friends, taking Eddie’s hand in his and agitating it slightly as well, since Maggie was going to bring them back home as soon as Bill was back to his rental. His mother was teasing them on their stupid impulse, but Bill was the one who reacted the most of them all to her words. Eddie was still sound asleep and Richie… Richie just tried to keep up appearances, so that they wouldn’t suspect a thing. Which was hard to accomplish, when he was doing his best to resist the impulse to scream at the top of his lungs. From joy, fear, excitement, or anxiety? Richie wasn’t quite sure, to be honest…

He was hoping that Eddie would be awake soon, but he was still sleeping when his mother brought them back, and Richie had to carry him to their room. Putting him under the blanket, Richie was about to lie down next to Eddie when his mom arrived, signaling him to join her. Richie was about to protest when she mouthed as quietly:

“It finally arrived.”

Richie’s voice just gave up on him right at this moment, getting caught in his throat. Giving a last look to Eddie, he got up, joining his mother as quickly and silently as he could. He followed her to the living room, where his father was, his hands cutting open a package with care and speed. It took so long for it to arrive that Richie had started to think that they might have been conned. But it was there. It was finally there. Richie couldn’t wait for Eddie to discover it. To try it. To make it his. 

At this moment, Richie temporarily put Eddie’s kiss away from his concerns, waiting for his dad to pull out the device from its box. He crossed his fingers when his father pushed the button to activate it, letting out a soft gasp when the screen lit up. It was working. It was fucking working. 

For a long time, Richie and his parents had looked for ways to allow Eddie to communicate more efficiently. Writing with a pen was tiring for him and quite slow, ASL was going okay, but he needed the time to learn and practice it before being able to use it fluently… They talked to specialists, reached out to associations, trying to find the perfect tool, something that would allow him to speak freely.

Richie remembered this lady who tried to convince them that her device was just what Eddie needed, but it barely allowed him to communicate that he was hungry, thirsty, tired, and so on. Eddie would have been frustrated quickly, perhaps even offended at the idea that it was all he was allowed to talk about: his primary needs, as if he was nothing more than someone to take care of. 

But this device… This device was something else. They were starting to get desperate when they came across the Lightwriter. It was mostly used by people with various physical disabilities that didn’t allow them to talk verbally. 

The device, slightly heavy, let the person using it type the words and sentences he meant to say, and it would be displayed on the screen, as well as being spoken aloud by an artificial voice if needed. It could store many sentences and words, so that the user would just have to press on a key to display them faster. It was… It was just what Eddie needed.

They bought one of these devices months ago, which wasn’t cheap at all. They had relented to use Eddie’s comfortable money nest to do so, something they would only do for his care and if they couldn’t afford it themselves. Eddie needed this device. It would help him in so many ways… 

Richie and his parents had sent a list of words and sentences they wanted to be programmed in the machine, so that Eddie could just say them instantly, without having to take the time to type all of the words and letters. And now, the device was there. Ready to be used. Richie wanted to cry, his feelings all over the place after this incredible day and his emotional turmoil. He was doing everything he could to focus on the device’s manual, learning how to use it, implement new sentences if necessary, and everything that it could accomplish. 

The guide was thick, and it seemed quite complicated, but it was for Eddie and Richie was sure that he would get used to it in no time. Richie barely finished skimming through the manual when he heard footsteps. Eddie was coming downstairs. Letting his parents and the device behind, Richie ran towards him, so quickly that he made him jump and yelp out of surprise.

“Sorry, Eds! Are you okay?”

Eddie nodded. He was looking at Richie thoughtfully and started to write on his slate, when Richie stopped him, holding his hand in his:

“Follow me. You need to see this!”

Richie was so excited that he basically yanked Eddie while guiding him to the living-room. His friend started to protest, an angry whine making his way out of his throat, when he noticed the strange device on the coffee and immediately fell silent. Clumsily, hesitantly, he walked towards Richie’s parents, who were tinkering with the weird machine. Eddie noticed the keyboard, the screen, and his brain quickly made the connection.

He knelt down in front of the table, his breath getting ragged, his eyes wide open. Richie put his knees down as well, rubbing Eddie’s back softly:

“It’s for you. We waited on it for so long. We weren’t sure it would arrive, after all this time, so we kept it as a secret to not get your hopes up, but… but it’s there. For you to use it. To talk through it.”

Eddie let out a choked sob, his trembling fingers getting close to the lightwriter, without daring to touch it. He started to hum loudly, unable to process fully what was happening, the crashing wave of emotions flooding his mind and his body, the unbelievable realization that he was about to have a voice once again, after all this time. 

“You just have to type your words in, and the screen will display them. And if you want to, it can say them aloud. Look, there are already words and stuff memorized in it. If you press this key...”

Richie took Eddie’s hand in his own, guiding him to push on the key. The male-sounding robotic voice made itself heard through the speakers, stating clearly:

“ _Fuck._ ”

Eddie stayed silent and astonished for a second. Then his lips parted, and he started to laugh, laugh, laugh so much that he could barely breathe, tears rolling down his cheeks. His finger pressed the key, again and again:

“ _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck._ ”

“I knew your sailor mouth would love to get to say that out loud again. I insisted for them to put this word in, just for my tiny angry gremlin.”

Eddie pushed on the key a few times more, until Maggie gently invited him to try other functions as well. They spent hours doing this, so that Eddie could get familiarized with the object and all of its functionalities. 

He would have to memorize the keys combinations to display the sentences previously registered, such as “ _My name is Eddie Kaspbrak.”_ or “ _I’m autistic, and I’m having a meltdown. Call this number.”_ or “ _I can perfectly understand you, you can just talk to me.”._

But Eddie was more determined than ever, knowing that he now had a way to talk without needing any external help. He wouldn’t have to rely on his interlocutor reading his words on his slate, which could be nearly impossible when Eddie was too tired to write correctly. And Richie wouldn’t have to translate his ASL either to those who didn’t know this language. Eddie… Eddie could just talk on his own. It was… It was… Eddie couldn’t even describe what he was feeling. And Richie neither. 

When they started to eat dinner, Eddie was more than happy to put his lightwriter to good use, wishing them all to enjoy their meal, asking for the salt, the water bottle, complimenting Maggie on her cooking skills. He never stopped, typing and babbling, babbling, babbling, his eyes shining with pure glee. His legs were continually shaking, his throat letting out a long hum of joy, as if his body was unable to process just how fucking happy he was. So, so fucking happy.

And Richie… Richie was looking at him. With a gaze full of love. Eddie was so beautiful. Richie just adored everything about him. The way he smiled, his energy, his bursts of anger, his constant chatter, with this robotic voice that Richie was progressively getting used to… Richie was smitten. Hopelessly smitten. And he started to think back to their kiss. He needed to talk to Eddie. But not now. Not in front of his parents. Certainly not. 

After they ate, Eddie immediately asked if he could call their friends to talk with them for real. This time, he would be able to use the phone. He wouldn’t have to rely on Richie for an awkward conversation. One by one, he called them all, grinning proudly while he was aptly using his lightwriter, his fingers quick to press on the keys and his brain memorizing the combinations needed to use the sentences and words previously registered. Eddie giggled when his friends displayed clearly their shock, hearing this voice transposing Eddie’s words aloud and clearly. When he was finished, Eddie was out of breath, his face slightly red, and his lips stretched into a wide smile.

He was clearly getting too excited, over the moon after this day and this surprise that he could barely process. His feelings were starting to get way too intense, Eddie spinning and swaying on his feet, clapping his hands brutally, his breathing devolving into a wheeze, his constant humming threatening to turn into a scream. It was too much, and his brain was getting confused, mistaking his near-unbearable joy for a panic attack.

Richie led him to their room, trying to get Eddie to brush his teeth and put on his pajamas, as he always did before they both lie down in their bed. But Eddie was too excited to do this, and he almost dropped his lightwriter, the device slipping from his shaky fingers. Richie caught it before it touched the ground, immediately reassuring Eddie and shushing him softly before he started to spiral out of anxiety and excitement. Putting the device next to them on the nightstand, Richie climbed on the bed and hugged Eddie tightly, rocking him slowly, singing Space Oddity as softly as he could, to not startle his sensitive hearing. 

Progressively, Eddie managed to calm down and to tone down the incredible happiness that he was feeling, his thoughts making more sense, his body being less agitated. When he felt better, Eddie reached out for his lightwriter, typing on the device:

“ _Thank you, Richie.”_

“Anytime, Eds. I get it, you’re super happy. I’m so fucking happy too. It’s just… wow. I started to think that this fucking device didn’t even exist, and it’s here, in your hands, saying what you want it to say out loud and… and...”

Richie could barely process his own feelings, to be honest. Now that he was digesting the idea that Eddie had a voice again and could talk freely and easily, his brain was putting in front of his mind what happened at the quarry. Eddie’s kiss. Eddie’s freaking kiss. And Richie wanted to talk about it. He really wanted to. But was it such a good idea? Eddie was so excited, he didn’t want to overwhelm him, not when he finally managed to calm down.

Besides, maybe it didn’t mean to Eddie what it meant to Richie… Eddie was discovering his sexuality, later than it should have happened. Perhaps he just wanted to know what it felt like, kissing someone on the lips? Or maybe it was an accident? Eddie was panicking in the water, after all…

Richie was struggling, stuck, unable to know what he was supposed to do and say at this moment, until he heard Eddie typing quickly on his device, the lightwriter then saying out loud:

“ _We should probably talk about the kiss. Now.”_

Richie felt his throat closing up. As good as it was to be able to hear Eddie’s words, the device didn’t really allow him to convey his tone, the voice flat and robotic. Richie couldn’t help but imagine the worst. Eddie guessed what he was thinking about. He believed that Richie was disgusting. He was going to tell him that he didn’t want to sleep with him anymore. With the faggot that used to be his friend. Right?

His motormouth started to vomit the words that were invading his mind, without thinking about it twice:

“I’m so sorry, Eddie, I know it doesn’t mean anything to you, and I won’t force you to do that ever again. I’ll still be your friend, and I’ll never try anything, and I promise that I’ll keep my feelings in check, that I won’t be a fucking fag around you and…!”

“ _Shut up. Listen.”_

Eddie groaned with surprising authority, and Richie could feel his anger burning. He wisely decided to stay quiet, knowing how sensitive Eddie currently was. He was scared. He was so afraid. Did he just ruin everything? Did he…?

Eddie gave him a smile, full of reassurance and affection. He then typed a few words on his lightwriter, putting the device in front of him and signing in sync with the sentence that the machine was saying aloud:

“ _I_ … _love… you..._ ”

Richie gasped audibly, looking at Eddie, recognizing the signs he was using. He remembered how Eddie signed this exact sentence back at the tea house, sentence that he couldn’t understand. He naively believed Eddie when his friend pretended that he was saying to him “fuck you”. He never… He couldn’t…

“Eddie… I...”

Richie couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Soon enough, Eddie was the one who hugged him tightly against his chest, soothing him while Richie just collapsed into sobs, the weight of his secret, his shameful desires, his unspeakable love for his best friend suddenly being lifted off his shoulders. He cried, and he cried, and he cried, little ol’Richie finally letting out everything that he kept for himself all of this time. He would have never dared to even dream of this moment. After all these years, Eddie… Eddie…

“ _Are you okay?”_

Eddie was still hugging him, and even though his device’s voice was flat, Richie could hear the genuine concern in his words. He sniffled, wiping his nose in his sleeve. Eddie let out a disgusted noise at the sight:

“ _You’re gross.”_

“Yeah, that’s me. Gross Richie, the legendary Trashmouth!”

Richie giggled nervously, as if he was currently as high as a kite. Maybe he was. After what just happened…

“Eds, you… when you say “I love you”, you really mean that? Like, really, truly? Love you in an “I romantically love you” kind of way?”

Eddie looked at Richie with a gaze full of disbelief. Richie was about to say that he was joking when Eddie focused back on his device, typing as quickly as possible, pressing a button so that the machine would say all of his sentences after he typed them on:

“ _I love you. I want to kiss you again. I want to know what it’s like to be in love with you. I want you in ways I can’t process. Richie, I love you.”_

Eddie hesitated for a second, before patting Richie on the head, typing another sentence and looking away, while the lightwriter was audibly enunciating:

“ _This is true love. You think it happens every day?_ ”

Richie chuckled helplessly at Eddie’s sentence, directly quoting “Princess Bride”. He took his hand in his, putting it on his chest:

“Can you hear it? My heart is fucking wild. I think it’s gonna burst out of my torso or something, like in “Alien”. Oh, we definitely have to watch Alien, Eds! I mean… Not the most romantic movie choice I could come up with on the spot, but you know… It’s a cool flick. I wanna share it with you. I want to share everything with you.”

Richie’s stomach was filled with fluttering butterflies. They got incredibly agitated as soon as Eddie typed on his lightwriter, before scratching his neck nervously:

“ _Can I kiss you?”_

That’s it. Richie was gone. His soul was carried to Heaven, with an orchestral rendition of “Died in your arms” by Cutting Crew to accompany him to the celestial kingdom. RIP Richie, you had a (not so great) life about to become so fucking incredible…

Richie cleared his throat, knowing that Eddie was expecting an answer. And he knew just what to say, grinning cheekily:

“As you wish.”

Eddie blushed at his words, a high-pitched whine slipping involuntarily past his throat. Richie started to laugh, but he stopped dead in his tracks when Eddie’s face got closer… and closer… and closer… And soon, they were kissing. Lips brushing lips in a clumsy ballet. Quickly, Richie discarded his glasses, that were about to poke Eddie in his cute, cute face, holding his friend… no, boyfriend’s hands in his own.

It wasn’t Richie’s first kiss, but oh boy, did it felt like it! Richie’s face was hot, red, displaying the flow of feelings that were coursing through his mind, through his heart. It wasn’t a dream. Eddie’s lips against his… It was real. It was so fucking real.

Eddie leaned away for a moment to catch his breath and immediately went back to his chaste kiss, letting go of Richie’s hands to grab his face, a move a bit too brutal, but Richie wasn’t going to complain right now. He was floating, floating, carried by a joyful wind in a blue, cloudless sky. Eddie was kissing him. And he was kissing him back.

Richie’s tongue started to venture out of his lips and tried to reach Eddie’s mouth. Eddie whined and backed off at the sudden wet and weird feeling on his lips, putting his hands over his lower face. Richie started to panic, apologizing quickly and pitifully:

“I’m sorry, Eddie, I shouldn’t have done that! It’s okay, it was my fault, you’re not ready, you...”

Eddie took away one of his hands from his mouth, putting it over Richie’s lips, letting out a “Shh” sound. Then Eddie stopped muffling Richie’s words, and Richie went quiet, aside from his uneven breathing. Slowly, but surely, Eddie managed to lower his hand and to process all of it calmly, while Richie was putting on his glasses, his face clearly showing how ashamed he felt. Noticing that, Eddie invited his boyfriend to look at him, offering him a soft and loving smile.

“ _I was surprised. Next time, warn me before, okay? We’ll try it again, but not now. It was a lot. I’m tired.”_

“Yeah, okay. Fine. No worries. Besides, we haven’t brushed our teeth yet, so you would have basically got another taste of Mom’s famous apple pie directly from my tongue. Maybe a few crumbs as w...”

Richie couldn’t finish his sentence, Eddie throwing his pillow at his face, whining and grunting:

“ _You’re disgusting, so fucking disgusting! Why are you so fucking gross?_ ”

“Hey, it’s only natural, Eddie Spaghetti! That’s how Mama bird feeds her Baby bird, directly vomiting in its throat. You wanna try it?”

“ _I’m gonna hurl if you don’t stop, Richie! I’m fucking serious!_ ”

“Hey, do you think that Stan and Patty are doing that privately? Ooooh, kinky!”

Eddie flicked him on the nose, gagging loudly, and Richie laughed, knowing that he should probably change the subject before Eddie threw up for real. Smiling, he led him to the bathroom, brushing his teeth next to him. All the while, Richie couldn’t stop teasing him, in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to do in a long time. It was just… perfect.

Once they were both in their pajamas, they laid down on the bed, facing each other. Eddie plugged his device to a nearby electrical outlet to be fully charged for the next day. He could still use it for now, typing to Richie:

“ _I love you._ ”

“I love you too, Eds. I… uh… I’ve never been so happy.”

Eddie softly laughed, pressing a rapid kiss on Richie’s forehead, his cheeks red afterward. So cute… He was so fucking cute! Richie’s stomach butterflies were flying everywhere, so much that he started to think that they were going to burst through his body, just like his heart.

But as giddy as he was, Richie came back to his senses after gazing lovingly at Eddie. He bit his bottom lip, whispering to his partner:

“Uh, we… we should keep it a secret. For now. Not telling mom, dad, or everyone else. Maybe Mike. He… He knows about my feelings. But… But no one else, okay?”

Eddie looked at him with a stare that Richie couldn’t quite identify. Then, after a while, he slowly nodded, hugging Richie tightly.

“Thanks, Eds, I… I need time. And… And I don’t want you to get hurt.”

He didn’t know how his parents would react. How his friends would either. But he was less scared now. He had Eddie. No matter what happened, Eddie would be there, by his side. Knowing that made Richie feel brave, almost as courageous as Eddie. God, he loved him so much!

“ _I don’t want you to get hurt either. I won’t tell, promise.”_

Once again, Eddie kissed him, on the nose this time. Richie couldn’t help, but giggle, as if Eddie just tickled him. His partner grinned at his reaction, before yawning and rubbing his eyes. It was apparent that Eddie was once again exhausted, after everything that happened, after this rush of feelings and emotions. Looking tenderly at Eddie who was trying desperately to stay awake, Richie shushed him softly, putting aside his device:

“Don’t fight it, Eds. I’m here. Just sleep. I’ll be here tomorrow and the day after and even more to kiss you and cuddle you. Don’t worry your pretty little head...”

Richie took a deep breath, adding a new nickname to his collection:

“… Kitten.”

Richie waited for Eddie’s reaction, but his boyfriend had fallen asleep before he was able to do so. Richie hugged him firmly, struggling to not coo happily over what just happened. He had a boyfriend. Richie had a boyfriend and his name was Eddie Kaspbrak! Richie was the happiest man in the entire world. No doubt about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Okay, I really, really love writing fluff. Like, really. I needed it after my day of work, it was just so relaxing. I hope you liked it!  
> Fun fact: the lightwriter mentioned in this chapter is a real device, that I've heard about on a website after hours and hours of exploring the Internet, looking for ways for Eddie to express himself as freely as possible. I don't know when exactly this device had been created, but the website I found mentioned that it was used in the 90's, so I think it might have existed in 1996. Here's the manual I spent a whole afternoon reading again and again so that I would understand how it's working and transcribe it in my story as accurately as possible : http://www.zyteq.com.au/uploads/PDF/Communicaiton/SL35__56__85__87__Cherry__BigKeys_Manual.pdf
> 
> Eddie was supposed to get this device on Christmas day at first, but I figured that it would be a bit cruel to keep this device away from him and only get Eddie to use it after Christmas, if they got it before. Besides, I didn't want it to feel like a present, it's an assistive device that Eddie really needs in order to improve his communication, making it easier for him. It's not a gift generously given to him. Besides, they used his money to pay for it, so it would have been really insensitive, I think.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you liked it! Don't hesitate to leave comments and/or kudos, I really want to know what you thought about this chapter. It's the first time in a while I'm venturing into romantic territory and I hope I'm doing it okay c:. 
> 
> Take care!
> 
> Edit: I really should read again my chapters more thoroughly before uploading them. Anyway, I corrected a few typos and the "Just died in your head" instead of "your arms" stuff. I actually laughed reading this, seriously... See you soon!


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Welcome to the 31st chapter of this fanfic, I hope you'll like it! I decided that it would be the penultimate chapter of this installment. The 32nd one will be the last and I'll start a new installment. Still don't know how I'm going to call it, but I'm going to figure it out xD. 
> 
> Thank you all for your overwhelming support. I wasn't expecting this story to reach so many people when I started it, I'm so happy you're still here at this point. I'm always so happy to get to read your thoughts, it was such a big help for me when I was confined, and now as well, since I'm back to work and adjusting as much as possible.
> 
> Take care of yourself in these difficult times. 
> 
> I couldn't really think of any Trigger Warnings for this chapter, it's honestly fluff and fluff all the way, but if you noticed something, don't hesitate to tell me so that I could add it to this note. Thank you and good reading!

Eddie was the first to wake up this morning. As always, Richie was hugging him tightly, and Eddie was curled up against him, so close that he could feel his chest rising slowly, following the rhythm of his breathing. He could also hear his heart beating, and that was a sound that Eddie dearly loved. But he liked it even more now that he knew that it was beating for him… Eddie felt his cheeks getting red at the thought, and he had to put his hand over his mouth to stop himself from letting out any sound. His lips curled into a smile, his eyes filled with glee at the thought. 

Richie was his boyfriend. Eddie had a boyfriend. He never had anyone like that in his life, and he started to think that it might never happen. That it wasn’t something he was destined to have. Even if he began to be a bit more confident about it thanks to his therapy, he still had his doubts, not even sure if someone would be ready to put up with him. But he still threw himself out there and took his chances with Richie. And it worked.

Eddie still couldn’t quite believe that he managed to find the courage to kiss Richie. Was it the right word to talk about his impulse? Eddie felt like he had been possessed by something beyond his will. Something telling him that it was now or never. That it was just the right time. And it was. Even if he almost choke during their first and sloppy kiss under the water. Richie finally understood that Eddie loved him. And he told him that he loved him back.

Eddie caressed Richie’s face softly, his hair sticking wildly in every possible direction. He seemed at peace. Eddie liked seeing him that way. They both had their nightmares, and, more than once, Eddie woke up to see dried tears on Richie’s cheeks. And that was when he wasn’t startled awake by Richie’s sniffling or muffled whines.

Eddie’s nightmares could be explosive and intense, but it didn’t mean that Richie wasn’t suffering either. He wasn’t always willing to tell what caused him to cry like that, but Richie always welcomed Eddie’s arms, hugging him to chase away the nightmares, make him feel safe and loved. But no trace of that this morning. Richie was sleeping soundly, lips slightly parted, close to Eddie.

Eddie took one of Richie’s hands in his, holding it tenderly. It felt so good. It wasn’t like they never did something like that before, but… it seemed to have a whole other meaning now. A new way for them to love each other, with all the time in the world to discover what it entailed… Eddie was eager to experience this new adventure. Especially in such a good company.

If that was all that made him happy, Eddie would already be the happiest man in the world. But there was also his lightwriter… Contorting himself to grab it without moving too much, Eddie caressed the device with the tip of his fingers, his lips trembling slightly. He never thought he’d be able to talk smoothly like that ever again.

Writing was okay, but he needed time to do so, and the people he was speaking with had to be patient as well. It was hard to keep up a conversation when he couldn’t answer immediately. And as promising ASL was, Eddie would still need many, many lessons before finally being at ease with it. And he would still have to rely on Richie to translate his words. But this… It made Eddie feel independent. Autonomous. 

Eddie felt his heart beating a little bit faster when he realized that, with the lightwriter, he might be able to go out on his own. He wouldn’t have to be scared that he was too exhausted or panicked to write properly. If everything was too much, he just had to press a button to warn people and tell them to call Richie or his parents to get him. And if everything was fine… Well, he could just talk. Ask for directions. Order something at a coffee shop. He could even make a phone call, all alone!

A sob made its way out of his throat at the thought. The sound was loud enough to startle Richie awake. He yawned, his sleepy expression becoming worried when he noticed that Eddie was crying:

“Hey, hey, Eds, are you okay? What’s happening?”

Eddie nodded, wiping his cheeks, using his device to tell Richie:

“ _ Happy. So happy.” _

Richie raised an eyebrow before his lips curled into a tender smile. He hugged Eddie, saying softly:

“C’me here, you tiny sap.”

Eddie was more than happy to obey, curling up against Richie once again. He always felt like it was the best place in the world, here, in Richie’s arms. And this feeling was now truer than it ever was...

Richie grabbed his glasses, putting them back on, giving Eddie a good look:

“Ah, way better! Blob Eddie is cute, but I’d rather see you in HD, you know?”

Eddie chuckled at his words. A cheeky smile on his face, he immediately answered:

“ _ Maybe I’d prefer Blob Richie. I should try to watch you through your glasses. _ ”

Richie gasped dramatically at his words, straightening up on the bed. 

“You’re so cruel, Eddie Spaghetti!”

As a single answer, Eddie pulled out his tongue, before laughing even more.

“That’s it, Eddie, time for my revenge! You’ll regret awakening the terrible, awful, no-good Tickle Monster!”

Eddie whined and shook his head, an amused expression on his face, but it was too late. Richie climbed on top of Eddie, careful not to hurt him, and started to tickle him. Eddie started to squirm and laugh helplessly, trying to escape Richie’s diabolic fingers. His face was becoming red, and he was doing everything he could to type something coherent on his lightwriter, without much success. When his hysterical laugh was about to turn into a full-on scream, Richie finally granted him mercy, a wicked grin on his lips.

“I told you that I was going to tickle you, one day or another. You’re so squeamish, how could I resist?”

Eddie was breathing heavily, small chuckles escaping his lips here and there. He managed to say, typing hesitantly on his lightwriter:

“ _ Asshole.” _

“You’re the one who started it all, Eds. I only retorted to your mean, mean words. Woe is me!”

Eddie laughed at his antics, as he always did. He raised his hand to caress Richie’s cheek, using the other one to type on his lightwriter:

“ _ Kiss me, idiot.” _

“It’ll be my pleasure, my good sir.”

Richie slowly bent over, his face getting closer and closer to Eddie’s. Eddie took a deep breath, preparing himself for the feeling to come before it happened. He liked Richie’s lips against his.

They were slightly chapped, which meant that Eddie definitely needed to tell him to buy a balm and rather sooner than later. They were also soft and tender, a caring touch filled with love and affection. And wet, of course. Not too much, fortunately. It was just something he needed to get used to.

Richie detached himself from Eddie, and he heard a “Shit!” coming out from his boyfriend’s throat. Opening his eyes, Eddie only had the time to close them again before Richie’s glasses fell onto him.

“I’m sorry, they just slipped. Did I hurt you?”

Eddie chuckled and took off Richie’s glasses, putting them back on his nose.

“ _ There, good as new. _ ”

“Thanks, Eds. I promise it, the next kiss will be smoother. Just like in the movies.”

Richie stopped riding him, which allowed Eddie to straighten up on the bed. He took Richie’s hand in his, playing with his fingers.

“ _ It doesn’t have to be like in the movies. I don’t have the experience anyway. You’re the first for me.” _

Richie seemed to hesitate for a minute, before he confessed, slightly red:

“Well, I… I drunkenly kissed Connor Bowers once. I guess. He threw me out of his house after that.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow at his words, tilting his head to the side:

“ _ Connor Bowers? Really? _ ”

Richie cringed at his words, fiddling with his glasses:

“I can’t tell if you’re angry or not, Eddie. Are you? It didn’t mean anything to me. I was drunk, and I missed you and...”

Eddie put his index finger on Richie’s lips so that he would stop rambling. Eddie smiled softly, just to make sure that Richie wouldn’t get anxious that he might be angry. He wasn’t. He was just… intrigued.

“ _ Why him?” _

“He was the only one who knew. And… And he’s gay. I… I don’t really know why I came to him, I was drunk. And you were gone. I was a mess when you weren’t there, Eddie. Like, really.”

“ _ You’re lucky that you didn’t throw yourself at Henry Bowers. If you were that drunk, it could have happened.” _

Richie laughed nervously at the thought. It could have, for sure. Or Henry Bowers could have caught them in the act. The simple fact of seeing Richie playing Street Fighter with his cousin was enough to send him into a frenzy. But kissing him? Richie would have been killed, very likely. Or he would have been locked up into some kind of basement, used as a plaything for Bowers and his goons’ sadistic mind.

“ _ So you never were in a relationship before? I thought you were... _ ”

“Yeah, no, that was all macho bravado. I barely have any more experience than you. Except for beating the meat. There’s Beastmaster, and then there’s me, Beatmeatmaster. See those arms? How muscular they are? I trained them well.”

Eddie scrunched up his nose at the thought:

“ _ You’re gross, Richie. You’re so gross.” _

“I know.” Richie chuckled, kissing Eddie’s hand softly. “I bet that’s why you love me. Because I’m a big mess and you’re hoping to clean me. Not going to happen anytime soon, Eds!”

Eddie rolled his eyes at his words, letting out a sigh. Richie was joking, but Eddie could feel that there was more than that. An underlying fear.

“ _ I don’t want you to change for me. I’m okay with you being messy and kinda gross. Those are parts of you that I love, because I love everything about you, Rich.” _

Richie’s cheeks became red at his words. He cleared his throat, fiddling with his glasses even more, as if to give himself the time to find out how he was supposed to react and what he should say. Eddie liked Richie’s trashmouth mode, even if it could be a lot sometimes, but he also loved seeing him like this, all flustered and awkward. Knowing that he was the one who caused him to be that way… Eddie was a bit ashamed to admit that he liked it very much.

A knock on their door. Richie instantly dropped Eddie’s hand, saying out loud:

“We’re awake! Give us a few minutes, and we’ll join you for breakfast.”

Maggie’s voice pierced through the door, letting them know that she would like to get some help to prepare their Christmas Dinner. Eddie salivated at the idea. A real Christmas Dinner… He never had one of those. Eddie always ate the same bland things, his mother reminding him again and again that he was too fragile to handle other types of food, that he was suffering from numerous allergies and had to be careful. That she needed to take care of her Eddie Bear… 

But his mom was not there anymore. And Eddie will have the first real Christmas day that he could remember. He started to flap his hands at the thought, causing Richie to sigh lovingly:

“You’re so fucking cute when you’re doing that, Eddie. You have no idea how much I wanted to tell you that...”

Now, it was Eddie’s turn to be embarrassed. Flustered, he hid his face in his hands, a soft hum coming out of his throat. Although he had gotten used to expressing his feelings through his body, as it was natural for him to do so, he still remembered how his mother used to stop him or even punish him whenever he did so. Telling him how much she hated to hear him hum, forcing him to stay still when his hands and legs were dying to move, taking away his precious stuff whenever he couldn’t help it… But Richie told him that he was cute. That the way he was happily flapping was cute. And Eddie believed him over his mother now. That was how far he had managed to progress, since the first time he came here and joined the Tozier family…

Once they were both ready, they joined Went and Maggie for breakfast, Eddie more than happy to talk and exchange with everyone else, now that he could keep up with them. His device, it changed everything. Eddie couldn’t wait to celebrate Christmhanukkah with his friends. He could really participate, not having to worry if they were bored by him having to take so much time to write what he wanted to say. He’ll have so much fun with the Losers Club! But first, his family. Christmas with his family. Eddie was so giddy, just thinking about it.

Instinctively, he started to reach out for Richie’s hand, but he stopped himself before doing so, not knowing if he could. Sure, they used to hold their hands very often before. And Eddie also climbed on Richie’s knees, hugged him, and whatnot. But… But was it different, now that they were officially in love? Should he be more careful? He didn’t want to stress out Richie.

Eddie didn’t understand why it had to be a secret. Sure, he wasn’t going to give Richie a french kiss in front of Henry Bowers; he didn’t have a death wish. But surely, his parents would understand, right? And their friends? They didn’t really have the time to talk about it, and now it wasn’t the right moment. Eddie promised that he would keep it as a secret, and he would. He just… he just didn’t get it, that’s all.

Eddie inadvertently grazed Richie’s leg while taking away his hand. Noticing that, Richie smiled at him, winking as well, before holding his hand gently, caressing it with his thumb. Eddie felt relieved at the touch. So, that was okay. They really needed to talk about that, set up what was okay or not for them to do, depending on who they were with. Eddie needed things to be clear and set in stone. Maybe it was obvious for Richie, but it wasn’t for him… And he didn’t want to make any mistake. 

Once they were done with their breakfast, Went, Richie and Eddie landed a hand to Maggie to prepare the dinner. There were so many things planned, Eddie felt dizzy just thinking about it. Would they be able to eat it all? When he asked Maggie that question, she laughed, ruffling his hair:

“We would explode if we tried to eat it all this evening. No, I’m already planning to stuff the fridge with leftovers. You could bring some to the party you’re planning with your friends.”

She turned her head towards Richie, who was pulling out of the cupboards what they were going to need to cook:

“You didn’t tell me where you were going, by the way. Are you still planning on celebrating the New Year in Bangor?”

Richie shook his head:

“We wanted to, but it’s not really practical. Bangor is a bit far, the restaurants might get crowded at this time of the year, it would be a pain in the ass.”

“ _ There’s this Chinese restaurant that opened a few months ago in Derry, the Jade of Orient. Bill booked us a table. They have kosher options for Stan and Patty. _ ”

Maggie looked at them both, a bit concerned:

“You’re sure about that? You could have fun away from Derry, you...”

Richie put his hand on her shoulder, offering her a reassuring smile:

“Don’t worry, mom. We’ll eat at the restaurant at noon, the real party will happen at Beverly’s house. Her aunt is away for the holidays, and there are rooms for everyone, so it’s safe. None of us will have to walk through Derry during the night. We’ll lock the doors and all, no risk for any break and entering.”

Went interjected, hugging his wife:

“Mags, it’s fine. They’re not kids anymore. They know when to be responsible. If they think it’s safe and they’ll have fun, then I trust them.”

“I know, Went, I just… I don’t want you to get hurt. I love you all so much.”

Maggie bit her bottom lip, visibly fighting tears. Richie and Eddie joined Went to hug her. Eddie took her hand in his own, holding it gently. He could never thank Maggie and Went enough for what they did for him. They offered him a new family, an unconditional support, a love that never wavered, no matter what… Eddie had never known any of that that before. And now… he had a family. A real family.

“It’s gonna be okay, Mom. We’re all gonna have some reasonable fun and we’ll stay safe in Beverly’s house. I’ll call you at midnight to wish you a happy new year and tell you that we’re just fine, if it might help you to relax. We’ll all scream in the phone, it’ll be a nightmare for your eardrums.”

Maggie chuckled at Richie’s words. She wiped her face, while they backed away to let her breathe a little:

“Thanks, Richie. I… I just want you all to be okay. I’m sorry, I’m such a Mother Hen sometimes. After everything that happened, I… It’s just difficult not to worry for your safety.”

Eddie shook his head at her words, eager to reassure her:

“ _ I know what it’s like to have an overbearing parent. And you’re not. You’re worried and it’s normal. Derry is a fucked-up town. But we’re managing and we’ll be careful. It’s a promise.” _

Eddie flashed her a clumsy smile, patting Maggie’s head. Once she was calm enough to go back to cooking, they all helped however they could. It wasn’t long before the kitchen was turned into an awful mess, thanks to Richie and his father who decided to start a flour battle at some point. The sight caused Maggie and Eddie to sigh in sync, doing what they could to discipline their respective partner. Eddie kept Richie in check, while trying to help at the same time.

Still a bit unsure of his cooking skills, Eddie dropped an egg at some point and was surprised to notice that, even though it made him feel anxious, he didn’t feel the need to curl up and beg for forgiveness. He merely took the time to clean his mess, apologizing calmly for his mistake, something that Maggie told him he didn’t have to do, that it was perfectly okay to mess up sometimes. And… And truly, it was. For the first time in a while, Eddie just accepted what happened. 

And it was such a relief, being able to control the flow of feelings coursing through his body. Knowing that he wouldn’t be punished or that he would still get a chance to help even if he messed up a bit. Eddie trusted his family enough to allow himself to fail. It was… It was a big step. Something that Richie clearly noticed, walking behind him to hug him and whisper to his ear:

“I’m so proud of you, Eddie.”

It was at this moment that Eddie had to excuse himself, going to the bathroom. He sat on the floor, hugging his knees, rocking back and forth slowly, doing his best to digest what happened and how it made him feel. A few months ago, heck barely a few weeks before, Eddie would have wailed and started to hit himself as soon as he clumsily dropped the egg. Richie would have had to keep him from hurting himself and they would have spent the rest of the morning trying to calm him. Eddie would have been exhausted, feeling awfully guilty and probably unable to understand anything that they would have said to him. 

Instead, he… he handled it all calmly. As if it was not a big deal. And it wasn’t, but for Eddie, it should have been one. Eddie wasn’t naive enough to think that it would never happen again, that he would still be able to react that way, but… but this time, he did. And it was almost overwhelming in some way. Knowing that he progressed so much. That he managed to walk that far on the path to his recovery.

Someone knocked on the door, causing Eddie to jump slightly.

“Eds? Everything’s okay?”

Eddie used his device to answer to Richie:

“ _ I need a few minutes more. I’m okay, just overwhelmed. I’ll be back very soon.” _

“Okay, Eddie, no problem. Call us if you need anything, promise?”

Eddie whined happily as an answer, listening to Richie’s steps while he was walking away. Humming softly under his breath, Eddie kept rocking for a while, until he managed to come down from his highs. He got up, stretching his body carefully, before joining back his family to help them. It was okay. Everything was okay. 

It took them some time to finish their preparations. By the end, they were all exhausted and hungry. Richie quickly reheated some pasta, knowing that they should probably avoid eating too much with what was waiting for them for dinner. 

As for the afternoon, they followed what Went called the “Tozier tradition”, which meant that they were going to spend the next hours watching Christmas movies while drinking hot cocoa. Well, before that, they needed to define what a Christmas movie really was…

“Went, I refuse to consider “Die Hard” as a Christmas movie. There’s nothing magical or whimsical about it.”

“You just say that because you want to watch “While you were sleeping”, Mags, we all know that,” Went retorted, a cheeky smile on his lips. “I know how much you like your Sandra Bullock romantic movies.”

“If we’ll have to pick a Sandra Bullock movie, I wanna watch “Demolition Man”, it’s her best one!” Richie interjected, grinning as much as his father, all too happy to tease his mother. “Come on, Eds, support me on this one!”

Eddie shrugged, mostly because he hadn’t seen any of these movies yet. He would be happy with anything they decided to watch, honestly. At least, it wouldn’t be his mother’s awful shows…

“It’s not a Christmas movie, Richie!” Maggie pulled out a pouty expression, that caused Eddie to laugh.

“I’m on your mother’s side for this one, Richie. Not a Christmas movie.”

Richie sighed, fiddling with his glasses:

“Okay, what about “Silent Night, Deadly night”? That’s a Christmas film, the main character is basically dressed up as Santa Claus for the whole movie.”

Maggie answered him with a flick on the forehead, Richie letting out an exaggerated “Ow!”:

“What? I’m not wrong!”

“We’re not going to watch a horror movie on Christmas.”

“Okay, okay… But please, mom, Die Hard… There’s Alan Rickman. In a suit. With a sexy accent. You can't say no to sexy Alan Rickman in a suit!”

This argument managed to win her over and Maggie reluctantly agreed, while Went and Richie gave each other an enthusiastic high-five. Went kissed his wife on the cheek, whispering to her:

“After that, we’ll watch your Sandra Bullock movie, I promise. Besides, Richie loves it. He told me so last year.”

“What?” Richie reacted immediately, pointing his index finger at his father. “That’s slander and you know it, dad!”

“It’s only slander if it’s a lie, Richie.” Went retorted with a smile. “And we both know I’m right.”

Richie grumbled as an answer, hugging Eddie:

“You’re the only one who supports me in this family. See how they’re treating me? I’m the saddest man this planet ever carried.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, ruffling Richie’s hair. Maggie put the movie on to calm down everyone and soon, Eddie was transfixed by the screen. But more than the film itself, it was really Richie who made this experience unforgettable. It was evident that he knew the movie by heart, quoting the lines with his Voices that were actually quite close to what Eddie could hear from the actors, getting overly excited every now and then, telling enthusiastically to Eddie that it was his favorite scene at least five times during the course of the movie. 

“Thank god Richie was too young when it was released in theaters,” Maggie let out at the end of the movie. “Can you imagine that in a theater, Eddie?”

Eddie grimaced at the thought, while Richie protested:

“I can be very quiet if I want to. I’ll prove it to you, Eds, I’ll take you to the theater and you’ll see that I’m the best person to watch a movie with!”

Eddie chuckled at his words, but he quickly realized that it was a date. A real date. With his boyfriend. He went red at the thought, but nodded quietly. Richie seemed to come to the same conclusion and cleared his throat, fiddling with his glasses:

“So… uh… the Sandra Bullock movie, right? For Mom, because I’m totally not a fan. Certainly not.”

Eddie curled up against Richie while they all watched the movie together. His hand was holding Richie’s, pressing it gently here and there, appreciating the feeling. Eddie wanted to kiss him, just a little peck on the cheek, but he stopped himself from doing so. Even though he really wanted to…

This Christmas Dinner was the best Eddie ever experienced. Went had put on some soft music, just low enough so that Eddie wouldn’t get bothered by it, but could appreciate the atmosphere it created. Everything was so… good. Eddie tasted every little piece of food, shivering at the taste, flapping happily. He also enjoyed their drinks, without alcohol, fruity and soft. It was just… perfect.

Eddie only regretted that it wasn’t currently snowing, but honestly, that wasn’t about to ruin this wonderful Christmas for him. A Christmas night with his family, with his boyfriend. Eating, drinking, talking, sharing. For the first time in his life, Eddie truly understood what people meant when they talked about the magic of Christmas. It was there. Right there.

When they finished eating, Eddie was stuffed, unable to eat something else. He was starting to get sleepy, but it was time for them to open their gifts and Eddie couldn’t wait for that to happen. He hoped Richie and his parents would like their presents… Thankfully, he was quickly reassured. Went and Maggie thanked him for their mugs and Richie immediately put on his new Hawaiian shirt. Eddie knew that he had found the perfect gift for Richie as soon as he saw the awful and obnoxious patterns.

And Eddie was spoiled as well. His eyes widened when he unwrapped his gift from Richie’s parents and discovered a mobile phone. They bought the same one from Richie, who marveled at the sight, letting out a whistling sound. He immediately apologized when he remembered how much Eddie hated this sound, rubbing his shoulder tenderly.

“Don’t you dare break this one on anyone’s nose, Richard Tozier!” His mother warned him, a smile on her lips.

“I swear, Mom. I’ll give a headbutt instead! Maybe it’ll put back my nose in its rightful place!”

Maggie groaned at his joke, encouraging Eddie to open his last gift. Although Richie’s broken nose had been treated well and properly, it was still slightly crooked and would likely stay that way. Eddie didn’t mind. It was part of Richie and he loved every part of Richie. He opened his last gift, coming from Richie. And he sighed. Longingly. 

“What? Come on, it took me so much time to do it!”

“ _ Really? A spaghetti necklace? What are you, five?” _

Richie laughed, while Eddie ranted that it was a waste of perfectly good food, how dare he? And besides, it was a stupid pun and a stupid nickname! Eddie typed so fast on his lightwriter that the words the voice was saying aloud weren’t making sense anymore. 

Richie cupped Eddie’s face in his hands, offering him a smile: 

“It’s a joke, okay? Not your real gift. Come on, Eds, breathe. I don’t want you to get worked up over a stupid joke. I just thought it was funny.”

Eddie groaned, taking a deep breath. He reluctantly typed on his device that it was kinda funny, before taking Richie’s real gift in his hands, curious. It felt light, almost weighing nothing. Eddie raised an eyebrow, intrigued. He really had no idea what it was. 

Finally opening his gift, Eddie let out an interrogative noise when all he could find inside was a white sheet of paper, carefully folded. He opened it and he gasped, reading the words, discovering the clumsy drawings Richie did:

_ We’re going to Disney World! _

Eddie raised his head to look at Richie, mouth agape. Richie chuckled nervously, precising cautiously:

“Your mom basically prevented you from having a childhood. I thought really hard about the present I wanted to offer you and… uh… I figured it would make you happy. I saved tons of money to hire a private eye when I didn’t know where you were, so you don’t have to worry about that. And… uh… I didn’t order the tickets yet, because I didn’t want you to feel trapped. If you want to do it, you’ll just tell me and we’ll plan this together, okay? Whenever you want. But you don’t have to, I...”

Eddie stopped him in his rambling, hugging Richie tightly, whining happily. Of course, he wanted to go there with Richie! How could he not? And Richie… Richie was always so kind, so thoughtful. They would be able to prepare this together, to plan this carefully. Eddie wouldn’t get overwhelmed. It was… It was...

“I assume it’s a yes?”

Eddie nodded and chuckled, nuzzling his head against Richie’s torso. Of course, it was a yes! He couldn’t wait… 

They didn’t last for long after they opened their presents. Eddie was getting tired and he and Richie were longing for some privacy. They waved goodbye to Maggie and Went, thanking them for this wonderful night, before going upstairs. Eddie was buzzing while he was preparing himself for the night, closing the door behind them as soon as they reached the bedroom and walking towards Richie to kiss him. 

It was just so good, being able to do that, after dreaming about it for so long. While Eddie was kissing him, Richie closed the curtains, making sure no one could see them. His hands were caressing Eddie’s skin and hair, in a way that caused Eddie to shiver. When they parted, Eddie wiping carefully his lips too wet, Richie’s breathing was slightly ragged, smiling widely:

“I basically waited for that the whole day, Eddie Spaghetti.”

“ _ Me too. Thank you for your present. It’s a lot. I should have offered you something else.” _

Richie gasped at his words:

“You’re joking, right? I love your gift! I’m gonna wear it every day, that’s decided.”

“ _ No, you don’t. It’s gross. I’m not kissing you if you’re wearing gross clothes, Richie.” _

“You’re wounding me, Eddie. See? I’m dying!”

Richie put a hand to his forehead and let himself fall dramatically on their bed. Eddie chuckled, joining him afterward:

“ _ You’re going to break our bed, asshole.” _

“No, I’m not! This baby is strong, it’s not going to break like that. Now, c’me here, I wanna hug my Eds.”

Eddie was more than happy to obliged, curling up against Richie. He sighed joyfully, typing on his lightwriter:

“ _ It was the best Christmas of my life.” _

“Me too, Eds. Me too.”

Eddie hesitated, but he finally typed, biting his bottom lip:

“ _ I don’t know what I can or can’t do, now that we’re boyfriends. Can we talk? I don’t want to stress you out.” _

And to be honest, Eddie was a bit anxious as well. What if he did the wrong thing at the wrong time? What if Richie was panicking and didn’t dare to tell him? What if he caused him troubles? Eddie just wanted things to be a-okay… Not perfect, just fine. Safe. And he didn’t know how. He didn’t want to be a bad boyfriend, he… he…

“Hey, hey, Eddie, it’s fine, everything’s fine. Breathe with me for a while, okay? We’ll talk afterward. I promise.”

Eddie had started to wheeze out of anxiety. But Richie managed to calm him down just before it was too late. Eddie breathed in and breathed out, slowly, regularly, focusing on Richie’s thumb gently massaging his hand.

“Good?”

Eddie nodded and Richie hugged him tightly:

“I’m sorry, we should have talked about it right away. But let’s do that now, okay?”

And they did. They talked, talked, set boundaries, conditions, what would be okay, when and how. Eddie was reassured, able to project himself in various situations, to predict what he should do depending on the context. Kissing was strictly reserved to Richie’s bedroom. Holding hands was okay, but they had to be careful in public. Hugging was fine in the house, around their friends and all, but it should be limited outside, because people might overreact. Although Richie was always ready to hug Eddie whenever he needed it, he assured him of that. And he could talk about it to his therapist, of course. Eddie was relieved to know that for sure.

When they finished talking about this whole new aspect of their relationship, Eddie thanked Richie, kissing him softly on the lips. Then he added, smiling widely:

“ _ So, Disney World, right? I can’t wait!” _

“Yeah, it’s going to be awesome! I think that you might be able to get some accommodation so that it won’t be too overwhelming for you, we’ll have to think about that too. We could have a road trip too! From here to Orlando, we could stop to a motel in the middle and then the Magic Kingdom… kitten.”

Eddie blushed at the new nickname, but he didn’t fight it this time. It was... It was kinda cute, to be honest. At the thought, he hid his face in his hands and let out an embarrassed whine, causing Richie to laugh tenderly, ruffling his hair:

“You’re so cute, Eddie. So fucking cute. You don’t even know how cute you are.”

For a while, he kept teasing Eddie like that, marveling at his embarrassed reactions, before finally letting him cool down, caressing his back gently. They stayed just like that, silent, enjoying the other’s presence, when Eddie typed on his device:

“ _ So we’re going to book a hotel room in the park, right? One room for us? _ ”

Eddie clearly heard Richie’s breath getting caught in his throat, a weird sound followed by a coughing fit. Eddie raised up slightly, a worried expression on his face while Richie was trying to calm his fit:

“ _ Are you okay?” _

“Yeah, yeah, just… Can we talk about that later? Please?”

Eddie didn’t know why Richie was so eager to change the subject, but he wasn’t going to push it. Later. For now, Eddie was quite content to snuggle up with him and enjoy this quiet moment together. They’ll have time to worry and discuss about all of that later… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love writing Richie and Eddie in love, is that obvious? I hope it is xD. It's just so pleasing to write. Also, I finally got to write a Christmas day, yay!  
> If you're curious about that, here's the phone Eddie and Richie got for Christmas: https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j9pFIJKwJcQ/U-4qqv_A1DI/AAAAAAAAAeo/pZ-Rha4FThE/s1600/startac.jpg
> 
> It's so weird, looking back at how cellphones used to be xD. No wonder Richie managed to break Bowers' nose with that kind of thing. 
> 
> And yeah, Richie and Eddie will go to Disney World in the next installment! Still haven't decided when in the story, but it will happen. I have to look up some stuff, I couldn't find any information on how Disney World used to accommodate its disabled guests back in the 90's. I came across some accessibility guide written in 1993 by a paraplegic author, but I couldn't read it and aside from that, I found nothing. 
> 
> If any of you have any information about that, that would make my day! Otherwise, I'll have to accept some artistic license and basically use my own experience in Disneyland Paris to write about what it's like to be autistic and accommodated in this kind of context. 
> 
> Thank you all again for their support! Don't hesitate to leave a comment and/or kudos, I'm always happy to read you and answer you as soon as possible!
> 
> Take care and have a nice day c:.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Welcome to the last chapter of Home, I hope you'll like it.
> 
> You may have noticed some screw-up on my part recently. I took upon myself to put every chapter I haven't put yet through Grammarly and correct them. But doing so, I accidentally mess up some of my chapters for a while. Thankfully, nothing I haven't been able to fix. This fic is now back to its pristine state, just in time for it to end.
> 
> I wanted to thank you all for your support, especially now that I'm back to work and still trying to keep some kind of routine with my writing. I have to admit that I'm a bit exhausted, but I hope things will get smoother and smoother as time fly by. Still unsure of how long I'll be able to keep up with my current updating schedule, but I'll try to, as long as possible.
> 
> Here are the Trigger Warnings for this chapter:
> 
> TW for recreative use of alcohol  
> TW for internalized homophobia  
> TW for homophobic slur
> 
> I think that's all. Thank you and good reading!

It was the first time in a while Richie was looking forward to the next year to come. Until then, he just felt that he was condemned to live the same thing again and again, expecting Eddie to come back in his life, trying to get a hold of him, all in vain. Back then, he had no idea if Eddie was okay or if he was even alive… But now, everything changed. Eddie was there with them, progressing every day on his path to recovery, despite the many obstacles he had to overcome. And they were both facing their future, together, taking the time needed to settle in this new relationship that they shared.

Richie was happy. Oh, yes, he was so pleased. Too often, he dreamed of what he had just now: getting to wake up next to Eddie and kissing him as a "Good morning", enjoying the feeling of his lips against his. Every move and every touch seemed to have taken on a whole new other meaning, causing Richie's heart to beat happily and eagerly. Eddie holding his hand and playing with his fingers, Eddie hugging him, Eddie curling up against him, Eddie sleeping with him… Richie enjoyed every single one of these moments.

But as perfect as it was, Richie was still scared. Scared that anyone might guess what they both shared. He couldn't help but tense when he had the feeling that his parents or friends' stare might linger on them for too long or that Eddie was acting even more overly affectionate than he usually was. Richie could feel the anxiety rising, fear hidden behind his jokes, and his smile, terrified that they might know. And that they might hate them for it.

Richie wasn't ashamed of Eddie. Far from it. But he knew how cruel this world could be for people like them, and he didn't want Eddie to have to assume that, on top of everything else. Eddie deserved to be loved and respected for everything he did, everything he accomplished. As much as he tried to, following his therapist's advice, Richie didn't manage to think the same about himself. That he didn't deserve the hate he might get for his sexual orientation.

But Richie didn't want to burden Eddie with that kind of thing. Not when Eddie was so happy, between their new relationship and his lightwriter. Richie was sincerely amazed at how quickly Eddie found himself at ease, using the device. His fingers were dancing on the keyboard, while the lightwriter was transcribing his words almost as quickly as Eddie used to talk before. It made everything so much easier and, Richie could see it, Eddie was getting more confident, thanks to the device.

The way he would jokingly boss him around, ordering Richie to kiss him, asking for a hug, teasing him, and answering promptly to his banter… Richie had the feeling that Eddie's previous way of communicating had considerably restrained him, and he was now free to express himself in the way that suited him. Richie just had to get used to this robotic voice, and how harder it made it for him to accurately guess which tone Eddie was currently using. Thank god for him, they were all for healthy communication, taking the time to talk to make sure that they understood each other correctly. Everything was… great. And it would be even greater, as time went by.

Even though he wasn't going to force Eddie to hurry, Richie was quite impatient to get to enjoy his boyfriend's Christmas gift. A road trip and a few days at an amusement park? The child within Richie was over the moon at the idea. And yet, he had his doubts. Were they going to sleep in the same room, that was what Eddie asked him, on Christmas night. And Richie hadn't been able to answer.

He would have to ask for a single room with a double bed, because he doubted that Eddie would take it well if they suddenly had to sleep separately. But if he asked for a room each and offered to Eddie to join him discreetly afterward, Eddie would probably feel that Richie didn't want to be seen with him and… and he might feel hurt.

But there wasn't only that. Richie had no way of knowing if Eddie meant something more than just "sleeping" when he asked that. And he didn't want to scare him off, asking him directly if he wanted to have sex with him. Hell, they were only kissing for now, and it was still chaste! And it wasn't just for Eddie… Richie wasn't sure he was ready either. When he dreamed about that, when he thought about it, Richie felt _disgusting_. He could hear their slurs, feel Bowers' gang's fists beating him to the pulp, Eddie's sobs and whines echoing through his mind… 

At some point, Richie managed to temporarily ditch his friends and Eddie to call Liz, panicking. He admitted everything, that he was dating Eddie, that they were now officially boyfriends, that they even kissed, but how far were they supposed to go, and what was he supposed to do, and…!

Liz had taken the time to calm him down. Congratulating him on this evolution of their relationship, she advised him to enjoy the holidays for now, to take things slowly and bring Eddie with him the next time he'll go to the LGBT Center.

"You're not the first baby gay couple they had to help, you know? Don and Adrian will be more than happy to talk about their own relationship, and there's also a relationship counselor that will be able to guide you. They can also teach you everything about safe sex, putting on a condom properly and all."

Richie had joked nervously, saying that he had some experience putting condoms on a banana, but Liz was dead serious:

"This is not a laughing matter, Richie. We lost so many of our folks to AIDS, and we still are. You need to protect yourself and to keep your partner safe as well. That's why we're here too."

Liz had dropped her severe facade quickly, to help Richie relax, but he hadn't stopped thinking about her words. Keeping Eddie safe… To be honest, Richie had no idea what he was supposed to do. What were the safe practices? What could he do to make sure he wouldn't hurt Eddie? And would they even have sex? There were so many things to think about, so many possible ways for them to hurt each other, to cause their relationship to fail… Richie was overwhelmed.

But he put these thoughts away, for now, deep, deep in his heart, keeping them for later. They'll go together to the center, and they'll ask whatever they need to know. For now, though, they had a New Year's Eve to enjoy, and Richie was decided to not ruin the mood, no matter what. It would be the best party the Losers club ever experienced… until the next one, anyway. Richie would make sure of that.

He was currently admiring himself in the mirror, sporting Eddie's gift. Eddie, sitting on their bed, was looking at him with a skeptical gaze, playing absentmindedly with his teddy bear. Beverly had just fixed its ear the day before, to Eddie's delight. He had told Richie that his bear looked just like he used to be, when his father offered it to him back then. 

Eddie was teary-eyed while telling the story, prompting Richie to hug him as tenderly as he could. Eddie had never really taken the time before to tell Richie why he was so attached to his stuffed animal, but he clearly understood why now. That was all Eddie had of his late father. That and his chessboard, with which Stanley and Eddie played a few games, most of them won by Stanley.

Richie smiled enthusiastically at Eddie, who let out a long sigh:

"Come on, Eds, you really thought I wasn't going to wear your gift for our party? It's just perfect. I love it so much."

Eddie shook his head, typing quickly on his lightwriter:

" _We're going to a restaurant, you have to wear something elegant. That's how these things work."_

"But it's boooring! Besides, it's uncomfortable as hell. Don't you want to wear something in which you'll feel good, rather than a strangling tie or a scratchy cardigan?"

Eddie grimaced, and Richie knew that he was going to concede him the victory. Eddie was highly sensitive and needed to feel comfortable in his clothes. Which was why he was often wearing Richie's hoodies, in which he was floating, sleeves so long that Eddie had to roll them twice to free his hands. He wouldn't be able to enjoy the evening if he was wearing a texture that he couldn't handle, Richie was sure of that.

Eddie had settled on a fluffy sweater and a pair of jeans, going for a practical and adapted look for the weather. His hands were caressing the sweet fabric, while Eddie was humming happily, enjoying the feeling under his fingers. Richie wasn't able to resist and threw himself at Eddie to hug him tightly, whispering to his ear:

"My fluffy sheep. My cute bunny. So soft, I think I'm going to hug you for the rest of my life."

Eddie had whined embarrassingly at the new nicknames, struggling in Richie's arms to write on his lightwriter:

" _I'm not a sheep or a bunny, idiot!"_

"Yes, you are. I want to bury my face in your sweater until I can't breathe anymore. Let's do that."

And Richie pretended to do so, until Eddie managed to push him back, cheeks flushed, a pouted expression on his face. They found themselves laughing helplessly, unable to calm down until Eddie took the initiative to kiss Richie. It was enough to make him shut up, breathless, and heated. When they parted, Richie's gaze was filled with love, affection, and a little hint of something else, that they both decided to not mention for now. Not so early, not when they wanted to have fun and not worry about how their relationship was going to evolve…

Eddie had taken with him his lightwriter and, after Richie reassured him on the matter, he packed his teddy bear in his bag as well. It was the first time in his life that Eddie would get to party with his friends, and having his plush might help him to not be too overwhelmed. It's not like they would judge him for that… The Losers club was above this kind of thing. They knew better than to mock a coping mechanism, a comfort object. Maybe Eddie wouldn't even need it, but at least, it was _there._ Close, safe, ready to be pulled out if necessary.

Richie had looked at Eddie with a tender gaze, while his boyfriend was struggling with his shoelaces, too excited for the afternoon and night to come. He trusted Eddie to ask him for help if needed, doing his best not to be too overbearing. Eddie was slowly getting more aware of his limits, of his boundaries. He was learning to distinguish between the moments where he really needed help and the ones where he just lacked confidence in himself to do it, when he could do so on his own just fine.

After a while, Eddie managed to tie his shoes and got up enthusiastically, running towards Maggie and Went to kiss them and wish them a great day, celebrating the holiday away from home, in the romantic restaurant they always went to. Eddie hoped that he and Richie would get to set this kind of routine as well, as time passed. But first, they were going to enjoy this day with their friends, their first party with the whole Losers club reunited.

Eddie was so excited that he couldn't stop flapping his hands, while Richie was driving them to the place they were supposed to go. It made Richie smile widely, seeing his partner so overjoyed. And a bit sad too, to be honest. It was just a Chinese restaurant, nothing exceptional, and yet, for Eddie, it was. His mother never let him go to this kind of place, and there were so many things he never had the chance to do… for now. Richie was decided to help him open his universe and experience all those things he was deprived of. Eddie deserved it.

It seemed that most of Derry's inhabitants were decided to celebrate the new year to come outside of town or in the comfort of their home. The restaurant was barely filled, with a few customers spread out here and there. Stan and Patty excepted, every member of the Losers Club was there, greeting Eddie and Richie enthusiastically.

A bit intimidated by the place and all of those new things surrounding him, Eddie started to suck nervously on his fingers, looking for Richie's comfort with his other hand. Richie was more than happy to give him so, holding his hand and rubbing his shoulder softly, letting him know that everything was okay. That they were just going to have some fun.

The table they were seated to was in a corner, surrounded with decorated screens, featuring Chinese letters that none of them were able to translate. Richie jokingly suggested that they might be swear words, proceeding to "read" what was written on the screens, causing Eddie to laugh and snort out loud.

Waiting for Patty and Stan to arrive, they ordered various drinks, none of them old enough to buy alcohol. Sipping on his coconut milk, Eddie was quickly disgusted by the texture of his beverage and was relieved to be able to exchange it with Richie, who swapped it with his coke while winking at Eddie. As if Richie would have let Eddie handle this sensory hell any longer… At least, he was willing to try, which was not something he would have done, months ago. Things changed.

When the couple finally arrived, Stan was visibly gloating, and Patty was looking at him with a proud look on her face. She was the one who delivered the good news, ordering a champagne bottle to a nearby waiter:

"Stan stood up to his father and will start his ornithology studies next year!"

The announcement was followed by an enthusiastic greeting and Richie got up from his chair, rattling it a bit too loudly for Eddie's poor ears, hugging Stan and whispering to his ear:

"I knew you could do it, dude. You had it in you."

Ruffling Stan's hair, Richie took a step back, grinning and saying with a louder voice:

"When are you going to perform your mating dance for Patty, you bird fucker?"

Stan answered by giving the middle finger, making everyone laugh in the process. Soon enough, their glasses were filled with champagne, Patty being legally old enough to buy it for them. Richie noticed Eddie looking at his glass with a hesitant gaze and proceeded to reassure him, putting his hand on his shoulder:

"Hey, you're not forced to drink, if you don't want to. No one's going to get mad at you. Right, guys?"

Bev was the first one to answer, a soft smile of her lips:

"Don't worry, bud. You know what they say, alcohol-free is the way to be. That's your choice and your choice only."

If there was one thing Richie was never going to pressure Eddie to do, aside from anything related to sex, it was definitely drinking alcohol. More than most people, he knew what kind of hell drinking could turn into, having witnessed its effects fully through his mom. Richie wasn't going to stop Eddie if he wanted to drink, but he would never push him to do so. Never.

He looked at him with a reassuring gaze while Eddie was visibly hesitating. Richie let out a gasp when his partner suddenly decided to down his glass in one go, unable to stop him quickly enough. Eddie started to cough, grimacing at the taste and at the weird feeling in his stomach. He still decided to have another drink, at which point Richie advised him to do it slowly.

" 'Don't want to have you rolling under the table before the party even starts, right?"

Eddie never tasted alcohol in his life and was already tipsy after one glass of champagne, laughing more than usual at Richie's jokes, leaning on him. He got slightly better once they started to eat, struggling with his chopsticks, asking for a fork and a knife after a few failed tries.

Meanwhile, the other Losers and Patty were competing to know who was the most dexterous of them with their own chopsticks. A waiter had brought them bowls full of beans, and they were all trying to empty them as quickly as possible, while Eddie was cheering for every one of them. Against all the odds, Ben was the winner, followed closely by Patty. Richie finished dead last, way after everyone else.

Eddie couldn't resist teasing him, and he did so, laughing openly at his defeat. Which caused Richie to grab his hand in his own, clutching it tightly while claiming loudly, not caring in the slightest about the noise he was making:

"Come on, Eds, I'm challenging you to an arm-wrestling match! You'll see if I'm still ridiculous!"

Eddie giggled at the idea and clutched Richie's hand as well, a grin on his face. With his free fingers, he typed on his lightwriter, a groan coming out of his lips:

" _Bring it on!"_

It was so funny, seeing Eddie struggle like that. His Eddie Spaghetti was so tiny, he couldn't do much against Richie, but god was he trying… For a while, Richie let him think that he could win, lowering his arm slowly, inch by inch, smiling at Eddie's excited expression and the cheers his friends were addressing to Eds. 

Just when his boyfriend thought he was going to win, Richie turned the tables easily, finally using most of his strength. While still being careful not to hurt Eddie in the process, Richie ended their match, overpowering his partner, who let out a frustrated whine. For a few seconds, Eddie played the sore loser, but he was then more than happy to feel Richie's arms under his fingers, cooing with admiration. Yep, Eddie was definitely drunk. And Richie was absolutely in love.

Slowly, but surely, they all got calmer, their screams and laughs being replaced by more serious discussions. They were all happy to share about their lives and what they managed to accomplish, mostly outside of Derry.

Bev's first experience showcasing her creations had been more than successful, and she had been booked to design an outfit for an even bigger fashion show, which was clearly an impressive feat, coming from a student like her. Ben was so proud of her, gushing over her accomplishments, and yet, he turned into a blubbering mess as soon as she mentioned his own exploit. His architectural project had won a prize and would be reproduced in real life during the year to come.

Stanley was talking passionately about his future studies, more than impatient to leave behind him his boring accounting course. Mike shared his experience in his library as well, proud to have managed to gather quite an audience of children for his reading session. And Bill… Bill was publishing his first book. That was official.

"That's fantastic, Bill!" Patty had claimed, amazed by everyone's accomplishments. "What is it about? You got to tell us!"

"Well, it's a horror boo… boo… book, for a sta-a-art."

Patty seemed clearly less interested in the premise once she heard that. But Richie was the one who reacted the loudest, once Bill started to summarize his story, excited to share that:

"It's abo… abo… It's the story of a k-kuh-kuh-killer clown and..."

"No! Bill, you're killing me!"

Richie groaned, hiding his face in his hands. He hated clowns. He hated them, those hellish creatures, with their scary make-up, and their outfit and… and everything about them! Why a killer clown? Why not a killer doll or a killer snake or even a killer plumber? Not too many people had written about a killer plumber, it would undoubtedly be a hit.

"I hate you, Bill. I hate you because you know damn well that I'm going to read your story as soon as I get my hands on a copy."

"I'm coun… count… I was hoping so, R-Richie."

Eddie grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly, as if to say that he was definitely going to protect him from his nightmares yet to come. Richie answered with a smile, resisting the urge to capture Eddie's lips with his own. It was so frustrating, knowing what they shared and yet, being unable to display it. Stan and Patty, as well as Ben and Beverly, they could just kiss each other whenever they wanted! But Richie and Eddie, it was… it was just impossible.

Richie bit his lips, caressing Eddie's hand with his thumb. It was unfair of him to get angry at them for being able to love each other freely, just like he shouldn't be jealous of his friends for having found what they wanted to do with their life. They were all so happy, pursuing their dreams. And Richie was… stuck. Granted, he had a good reason why, waiting for Eddie and then being there for him as much as possible.

But now that they both decided to leave Derry, one day or another, Richie was just too eager to do so. Leaving it all behind, constructing a new life, finding a purpose, something he'd like to do for a living… Well, he was allowed to dream, right? It was New Year's Eve, after all.

As bitter as he was about this whole situation, Richie was still happy to share this moment with Eddie and his friends. It was just perfect, hours passing by so fast, all of them enjoying the presence of the others. They were all eager to talk, to joke, to listen to what everyone had to say. It was like the scattered pieces of their puzzle were finally reunited, and the picture formed was just perfect. Simply perfect.

Once they decided to move the party to Beverly's house, Richie helped Eddie to their car, Eddie having definitely drunk more than he should have. Tripping on the way, Eddie giggled helplessly, trying to type on his lightwriter, barely managing to let out an "Oops" with the robotic voice. Which made him laugh even more.

"You're such a lightweight, Eddie, you know that? You're gonna have a splitting headache tomorrow, I don't envy you."

Eddie answered with a stupid grin, while Richie was turning on the engine, following everyone else to Beverly's house. During the trip, he kept trying to hug Richie, letting out various sounds that weren't making any sense, as if he genuinely thought that he was saying something understandable. Richie managed to keep them safe, relieved when he parked his car. His heart jumped in his chest when he turned his head towards Eddie and saw his lips so close to his own.

Putting his hands on Eddie's shoulders, he pushed him back slightly, whispering quickly:

"Not now!"

At Eddie's pouty face, he added, unable to stop himself from smiling:

"Later, I promise. Look what I snatched from the restaurant."

Richie pulled out a sprig of mistletoe, grinning at Eddie's widened eyes:

"We'll both be going to the bathroom at some point, and, after I closed the door, I'll pull it out, and we'll kiss like we never kissed before. Okay?"

Eddie nodded furiously, trying to take the sprig and to put it above their heads, so that they could kiss immediately.

"Not now, Eds."

Eddie huffed loudly, but he relented, following Richie to Beverly's house. He marveled while discovering it, never having the opportunity to go to his friend's home. It seemed so… cozy. Eddie could tell that Beverly's aunt really loved her. The house was full of pictures featuring them, smiling, hugging, enjoying life together. There were also pictures with Ben, that Beverly must have sent to her, lovingly displayed for anyone to see. Eddie admired them all, unable to stop himself from looking at the pictures. 

Catching his gaze, Richie immediately asked, pulling Eddie close to him:

"Come on, we gotta take a picture! Bev, you must have a camera somewhere, right? Careful with the flash!"

"Don't worry, Richie, I'm handling it!"

Their evening was immortalized on the photographic film. Pictures featuring them all, others portraying them in embarrassing or cute moments, Bev more than happy to snap a photo whenever possible. Richie felt his heart swell when he realized that she took pictures of Eddie seated on his knees, resting against him as he always did. If only he could kiss him softly, just like Patty did with Stan…

It was the best New Year's Eve Richie ever experienced. They barely stopped laughing and talking, and, when they did, it always felt natural, a break clearly needed in the flow of their evening. They drank a little bit more, Richie being careful so that Eddie wouldn't risk getting intoxicated.

He could be quite bratty when he was drunk, whining whenever Richie prevented him from getting another drink or to down his glass too quickly, pouting in such a cute way that Richie found himself pinching his cheeks, as he used to years ago. It didn't feel demeaning, and Eddie didn't take it in the wrong way, pretending to be vexed by the gesture, before laughing at it and pinching Richie's cheeks as well. It was just… natural.

At some point, Eddie started to get even more close to Richie, resting his face in his neck, caressing his hair. He whined softly in his ear, and Richie knew precisely what he was trying to tell him, even though he was clearly not in a state to use his lightwriter right now. Helping him up, a grin on his face, Richie teased Eddie jokingly:

"Come on, my tiny gremlin, I'll help you to the bathroom."

Richie gave the thumbs up to Mike, who asked him to be careful, walking Eddie to the bathroom. Locking the door behind them, he held the mistletoe high above them, smiling tenderly to Eddie:

"Just as promis..."

Richie didn't even have the time to finish his sentence. Eddie threw himself at him, kissing him eagerly. Richie answered with enthusiasm, but was prompt to slow Eddie down when his hands started to get a bit more adventurous.

"We'll do this kind of thing later if you want to, Eds. You're drunk."

Eddie pouted once again, letting out a sound close to a "Naaah", hugging Richie. Richie ruffled his hair, chuckling at his boyfriend's tipsy behavior:

"Yes, you are, trust me. You wouldn't be able to go back to the living room if I wasn't supporting you. And no..." Richie added when Eddie started to open his mouth, probably to whine defyingly. "That's not a challenge. I'm not gonna let you faceplant on Beverly's floor. She'd never forgiven me if I did so."

Richie helped Eddie to freshen up a bit, before guiding him out of the bathroom, back to where the party was happening. It wasn't long before midnight rang, announcing the new year to come. As promised, Richie called his parents, everyone wishing them a Happy New Year. Fumbling with his lightwriter, Eddie had to rely on Richie to type the words for him, snuggling against him afterward. Less than an hour after that, Eddie was out like a light, his head resting against Richie's neck, a snore coming out of his lips. Beverly snapped another picture of them, and the party went on, though they were all calmer to allow Eddie to get his rest.

When it was finally over, Richie was smiling blissfully, lying next to Eddie on one of the beds they were all sleeping in. Hugging Eddie, he whispered to his ear, so softly that no one else would have been able to hear him:

"I love you, Eds. Happy New Year."

*

Richie groaned when he was woken up by a loud ringing in the morning. How many hours of sleep did he get? Two, at most? He pulled out his cellphone, yawning, while Eddie was waking up as well, rubbing his eyes. His mom's number.

"Mom, it's seven, for fuck's sake..."

"Richie, it's important! S… Someone got into your bedroom. They left a note..."

It was all Richie needed to be completely awake. The panicked urge in his mother's voice and her alarming words. Unable to think about it reasonably, he immediately left Beverly's home, barely taking the time to say goodbye to everyone else, pulling Eddie with him. During the whole drive, while Eddie was back to sleep next to him, Richie couldn't stop sweating, his breathing ragged. What happened? Why? Who? None of his questions could find an answer.

He almost hit the police car, which was leaving their lane when he arrived at his home. Parking his car, he got out of it, helping Eddie on his feet. Went and Maggie hugged him tightly as soon as he arrived, Went holding Eddie against him, who still had troubles to come out of his sleepy state. Richie's gaze caught sight of his bedroom's window, smashed to pieces, and let out a gasp.

"What happened? Are you okay? Did you see anyone?"

Maggie shook her head, her eyes bloodshot, and her hair messy:

"It was already like that when we came back. I don't know when it happened. Nothing has been stolen, they just..."

Maggie bit her bottom lip, visibly unsure of what she supposed to say. Went took over, putting a comforting hand on Richie's shoulder:

"You should sit down, son."

Richie didn't know what to say, how to react. He merely followed his mother to the living room, while Went was putting Eddie in their bed, the floor of Richie and Eddie's bedroom still riddled with shards of glass. When Wentworth returned, he held two things in his arms, putting them on the table. When he saw what it was, Richie couldn't help but whimper, a shiver running through his whole body.

The first item was one of his distinctive Hawaiian shirts, savagely cut to pieces. The last one was a crumpled sheet of paper, that Richie unwrapped with trembling fingers. The letters were red, a crimson color that let Richie think that it might have been written with blood. More than that, it was the message in itself that caused Richie to fear, terror invading his mind, and flooding every one of his rational thoughts:

**Happy Fucking New Year, faggots**

Richie had absolutely no doubt about who was behind this message. This warning. Bowers was coming for them...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I kinda wanted to sleep when I started to write this chapter, but in the end, I think it's a nice way to conclude this installment, right? Sorry for the cliffhanger at the end, I couldn't resist x). 
> 
> Fun fact: my first idea was to have Bowers decapitate Eddie's teddy bear, but I decided that it was too cruel and went with something else. A comfort object is so precious, I would just turn into a blubbering mess if mine was taken away from me, especially so brutally. 
> 
> The next installment will be called "Love" and will focus on every form of love that Eddie and Richie get to experience and the prejudices they'll have to face as well. Don't forget to subscribe to the series to make sure to not miss it when it's out!
> 
> Don't hesitate to comment and/or leave kudos, I'm really curious to know your thoughts on this final chapter. Take care, be careful in these difficult times and I'll see you soon!


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